


the world shines gold in you

by perfectlyrose



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: (forgot that one earlier but... over 20k before the first kiss seems like it qualifies), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, Magic, Magic!Keith, Mutual Pining, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-03-14
Packaged: 2019-10-03 18:03:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 25,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17288795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/perfectlyrose/pseuds/perfectlyrose
Summary: Shiro is trying to build a life in the aftermath, and he likes to think he’s doing a pretty decent job of it. He’s found a balance of sorts when he meets Keith, shadowbright and intriguing, in a forest rumored to be haunted. The sparks between them kindle something new and warm and bright in Shiro, something that might be able to do more than keep the darkness at bay.The danger of a growing light, however, is that the shadows grow deeper.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Big thanks to Jess who has listened to me ramble about this for two months and encouraging me. You are my very favorite enabler ♥

Shiro is careful to walk silently as he approaches the man crouched in front of a blackberry bush overlooking the path he’d been walking on a few minutes prior. He senses if he makes a sound, the man will likely take off and Shiro won’t have any chance of catching him. The last few times he’s crossed through this forest, he’s felt someone watching him. He comes to a stop a few feet away from the man who’d been doing the watching.

“Were you ever planning on saying hello or were you just going to keep watching me from a distance?” Shiro asks.

The man springs into action as the first sound falls off Shiro’s lips. There’s an almost supernatural grace in the way he stands and turns in one smooth motion, unsheathing a deadly looking knife in the process. Some of the hostility leaves his face by the time Shiro finishes his sentence.

“Or, I guess you could be waiting to kill me,” Shiro continues, giving him what he hopes is a disarming smile even as steals glances at the knife. “Kinda figured if that was your plan you would’ve done it by now, but I’ve been known to be wrong on occasion.”

“Not going to kill you,” the man says. His voice is deeper than Shiro expected. Gravel and honey.  He sheaths his blade. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.”

Shiro watches, fascinated, as the man appears to shoot a nasty glare at the blackberry bush to his left.

“Didn’t give me much of an option. You would’ve run if I’d tried to talk to you normally.”

The man doesn’t deny it.

“I’m Shiro.” He holds his hand out to the man.

He hesitates and Shiro takes the opportunity to give him another once-over. Several inches shorter than Shiro and slim, but with the way he moves, Shiro would guess that he’s deceptively strong. A fighter’s build, for sure. His hair is a deep black that falls just past his shoulders and frames a face that is all sharp angles. His eyes are what draw Shiro in. They’re a deep violet, the color of twilight just before it gives way to night.

Shiro wants to drown in them, even if they are currently watching him with a wary expression.

After a moment that seems to stretch for an eternity, the man clasps Shiro’s hand.

“Keith,” he offers.

Shiro wonders if that’s really his name, but there’s no deception on his face. He gets the sense that those eyes don’t lend themselves to lying well.

“Nice to meet you, Keith. Live around here?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you going to tell me why you’ve been watching me every time I pass through?”

Keith shrugs and crosses his arms over his chest. “Why do you take the longer paths through the forest? Everyone else takes the direct paths so they don’t have to spend as much time here.”

Shiro offers a shrug of his own. “The forest never felt as unwelcoming to me as what others describe. It feels like it at least tolerates me and I find it beautiful, so I take the longer paths.”

Something akin to wonder sparks to life in the depths of Keith’s eyes. His expression remains neutral as he stares down Shiro. “The forest usually has good taste.”

Shiro raises an eyebrow. “Know that for a fact?”

“Yeah.” His eyes skitter away from Shiro, settling on something behind him instead.

The silence sits heavy for a few moments, letting Shiro ponder his response. He’s heard rumors of those who are connected to nature in peculiar ways, families who are bound to a forest or a mountain or a set of desert cliffs. He wonders if Keith is one of those, if he’s connected to this forest that so many believe is haunted.

Keith’s gaze swings back to Shiro, pinning him in place as their eyes lock. “So what’s your deal anyways?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean you carry yourself like a soldier or mercenary or something but your pack looks like the ones healers carry. What’s your deal?”

Shiro’s never really considered how he must look to other travellers or the people he meets, at least not in this context. He’s usually more concerned with how they react to the scar across his face and the pure white of his forelock that marks him as touched by quintessence magic.

He used to worry about people’s reactions to his metal arm but he’s learned to hide it, wearing long sleeves and gloves whenever possible.

But Keith is implying something different. He’s apparently identifies travelers by their profession and, honestly, it’s a smart thing to do. Shiro supposes he does it subconsciously, but he’s never really quantified it in the way Keith obviously has.

Shiro offers Keith another smile. “Well, I used to be a soldier, so that accounts for part of it, I guess.”

“And now you’re a healer?” Keith’s face settles into an expression of mild interest.

“Yes. I learned the basics when I was a student, picked up more practical knowledge as a soldier, and when I got out I decided to further my studies,” Shiro says with a shrug. “I travel, try to help people where I can. Most of the time it’s with what’s in my pack, but I can still handle myself in a fight, too.”

Keith drags his eyes down Shiro’s body and then back up. “I can believe that.”

“What do you do?” Shiro asks, trying desperately to turn the conversation before the burning high on his cheeks and at the tips of his ears could become more noticeable. Judging from Keith’s smirk, the redness has definitely been noted.

He raises an eyebrow and Shiro lets more words spill out of him. He is honestly curious about this bright shadow of a boy. “I mean, other than note the comings and goings of people in the forest and occasionally threaten them with knives.”

Keith snorts and, paired with the quick upward twitch of his lips, it’s close enough to a laugh to send light spinning through Shiro’s veins. “You make it sound so much more interesting than it is,” he says. “I hardly ever get to threaten anyone.”

“You sound disappointed by that.” Shiro is delighted as some of the wariness leaves the tense lines of Keith’s body. He is still all sharp angles and coiled strength but he doesn’t look ready to bolt anymore.

“I live in disappointment,” he drawls, sarcasm dripping from every word as his chin tips up to a defiant angle.

Shiro laughs. The sound bubbles out of him, uncontrollable. Keith looks faintly worried but pleased at the same time. Shiro takes a deep breath, reining it in as best as he can.

“So, _were_ you ever going to say hello or just continue watching me from behind the bushes?”

“Did you always know I was there?” He demands. Pink is starting to bloom at on his cheeks, betraying his embarrassment.

“You can’t answer every question I ask with another question,” Shiro says.

Keith’s chin tilts up another degree, a silent declaration that he can and will for as long as he wants.

Stubborn is an understatement when it comes to him, Shiro thinks.

“I knew someone or something was watching me. Soldier instincts,” Shiro claims. It’s not the whole truth, but it’s close enough. Not like he wants to tell a stranger that they are more like prisoner instincts, fugitive instincts.

That would be much harder to explain.

“I wasn’t planning on actually talking to you,” Keith says after another moment and another assessing look at Shiro. He gets the impression that as long as Keith feels Shiro is being honest with him, he’ll be honest with him.

“Why were you watching me?”

Keith’s expression shutters. Shiro hadn’t quite had the time to appreciate all the ways it had relaxed. He shrugs. “Couldn’t figure you out. Thought if I kept watching, you might start making sense.”

“Sorry, Keith. I don’t even make sense to myself most days.”

Keith narrows his eyes at him and then relaxes again slightly. “So, why did you come find me? _How_ did you find me?”

“Wanted to know who was watching me,” Shiro answers. “It didn’t feel like I was in danger but you were an unknown entity and I didn’t want to take any chances. Been too close to death too many times to want another meeting.”

His laugh sounds forced, even to himself. He winces, he’s usually better at masking his morbid thoughts with humor than this.

“Well, you know I’m not a threat to you, now,” Keith points out. The implied _why are you still here_ hangs in the air between them.

“So long as I don’t get on your bad side,” Shiro says. “I wouldn’t bet on myself against you and that knife.”

That eyebrow ticks up again. “You planning on pissing me off?”

“No.”

“Then you have nothing to worry about.” Keith’s expression is bordering on confusion now.

Shiro searches for something else to say but coherent words seem to be currently out of his reach. A whole sentence feels like an impossibility with his tongue heavy in his mouth. He scuffs the toe of his boot in the dirt, watching the small divot he’s creating.

He wants to keep talking to Keith, though. He wants to maybe have the chance to talk to him on future trips through the forest, and if he walks away right now there seems like a good chance he’ll never see him again.

“Shiro,” Keith starts before pausing, seemingly gathering his own words.

Shiro’s head snaps up at the sound of his name on Keith’s lips. Really, it has no right to sound like starlight in that gravel-laden voice.

“Yeah?” He sounds a little too breathless, a little too eager, but he can’t summon any shame. It’s been so long since he was drawn to someone in this way.

“Do you want something from me? Most people…” he trails off, looks down at one of his hands. It’s curled into a tight fist at his side. He takes a deep breath; the fist releases. He looks up at Shiro. There’s something uncertain shining out of those violet eyes and mistrust is written in the straight line of his mouth. There’s an edge to his expression, sharp enough to cut if he wants it to. “Most people don’t just talk to me. Not for this long.”

“Well, they should. I’m enjoying talking to you, would like to do it some more, if you don’t mind talking to me.” He smiles, pretends that his heart isn’t pounding.

He’ll have to walk away if Keith says he doesn’t want anything more to do with him. He really hopes that’s not what’s about to happen. Something tells him that he’ll be haunted by Keith and a million what-ifs for the rest of his life if that’s Keith’s answer.

“You...I, um, I don’t mind,” Keith says finally. “Talking to you, I don’t mind.”

Shiro lets loose a grin, bright and easy and relieved. “Great!”

Keith looks a little stunned and Shiro wonders if he was a bit too exuberant. The smaller man’s expression suddenly shifts to annoyance before slipping into an embarrassed blush. He watches the emotions flash over Keith’s face, unsure what’s caused them but drinking in every nuance regardless, trying to memorize the exact way a blush creeps across his skin.

He feels his own face starting to react in the same way.

“So, um, if you have any herbs that need to be replenished for your pack, I can probably show you where to find them,” Keith offers. He seems to have regained control over his face. There’s a quirk to his lips that hints at a smile.

“I think the only thing I’m low on right now is lionsheart. I just restocked everything else while I was in Altea, but that one’s hard to find.”

Keith nods. “I know where there’s a patch. I haven’t harvested it lately, not much interest in the villages around here and it’s too much hassle to try and sell it to the bigger shops in Altea or Arus by mail.”

“I can pay for it if I’m going to be taking away from your livelihood,” Shiro offers.

Keith snorts. “You’re not taking money out of my pocket, big guy. Don’t worry about it.”

“If you insist,” Shiro says.

“I do. Follow me.” He motions with his hand and sets off into the trees, turning away from the path.

Keith moves silently across the forest floor. Shiro, on the other hand, winces at every twig that snaps beneath his boots. He is notorious for accidently sneaking up on friends, but walking quiet in a forest is a skill set he does not have.

“Glad I have your continued reassurance that you’re not trying to kill me,” Shiro jokes as he follows Keith deeper into the trees, “because I’m pretty sure no one would ever find me if you did.”

“Has anyone ever told you you have a morbid sense of humor?” Keith shoots back.

“Several times. Hazard of being a soldier. Second career choice didn’t help, if I’m being honest.”

“I feel like you were just,” he waves a hand vaguely at Shiro, “like this before you decided on careers”

Shiro laughs lightly. “Might’ve been. It just got worse.”

They walk quietly for a couple minutes. Shiro takes the time to study the way Keith moves and the way his clothes cling to the lines of his body. He is almost certain he could span his entire waist in his hands and this potential knowledge is well on its way to ruining him when Keith stops suddenly.

Shiro crashes into him, knocking both of them off balance. He reaches out to catch hold of Keith and keep him upright.

He didn’t think for a second that his hypothesis about his hands and Keith’s waist would be proven right so soon. But here he was, palms flush against the curve of Keith’s waist, thumbs touching at the small of his back, middle fingers barely brushing each other in across his abdomen.

Shiro shorts out for a moment, staring down at his hands. He jolts back to himself and yanks his traitorous appendages away.

“Sorry,” he says, looking anywhere but at Keith. He knows his face is bright red but there’s nothing he can do about it now. “I wasn’t paying attention and didn’t realize you’d stopped.”

“It’s fine, Shiro.” Keith’s voice is slightly strained as he turns around to face Shiro.

Shiro chances a look and Keith’s face is as red as his and he keeps stealing looks down at Shiro’s hands.

Taking a deep breath, Shiro steels himself and claps his left hand onto Keith’s shoulder. The contact feels right. “Still, sorry.”

Keith doesn’t shrug him off, but he does give Shiro another of those sharp, assessing looks. He tosses his head slightly to get his hair out of his face. “The lionsheart is in this clearing. Should be plenty of it. Timing’s right and I haven’t gathered any for a few months.”

He turns and Shiro’s hand falls from his shoulder. Shiro follows him into a tight grouping of trees. Keith stops in front of the biggest tree. Shiro thinks its an elm but he’s not sure.

Keith presses his hand to the trunk and closes his eyes. His eyebrows draw together for a second and the corners of his mouth tighten as he concentrates. He pulls away and gestures to a pocket of earth amongst the great tree’s roots.

Keith crouches down and Shiro mirrors the gesture. With a gentle hand, Keith reaches out and brushes fingers against the ground-hugging plant. The gold-tipped, deep red leaves seem to shimmer, even in the shadows.

Shiro takes his pack off his back and digs through it for the right jar. He hands it to Keith, who quirks a half-smile at him when he takes it.

Keith talks softly as he starts gathering the lionsheart with sure, steady movements. “Lionsheart usually grows near the oldest trees,” he says. “It’s usually most abundant around the full moon. It’s good for any fevers and stomach ailments but it’s also the best thing there is to cut through illnesses and injuries that are caused by magic.”

“Most people don’t know its efficacy against magic,” Shiro says.

Keith shrugs a shoulder. “Yeah, most people don’t know a lot of things.” He screws the jar lid shut and hands the now-full jar back to Shiro.

“Thank you, Keith.”

“No problem.” He stands and extends a hand to help Shiro back to his feet. “Come on, I should get you back to the path if you want to be out of here by nightfall.”

“That would be ideal,” Shiro agrees.

“Where are you heading?” Keith asks after they’ve been walking for about a minute.

“Heading to Balmera next. Eastern part.”

Keith nods. “I’m going to take you to a different path. It will get you out of the forest faster and it comes out right near the Balmeran and Olkarion border.”

“Eager to get rid of me?” Shiro teases. He lightly knocks Keith’s ribs with his elbow now that they’re walking side by side.

Keith rolls his eyes. “Just trying to get you out of here before dark. You know better than to be here after nightfall, even if the forest does like you okay.”

“Do -- you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to,” Shiro qualifies quickly, “but do you have a connection with the forest? Like, can you communicate with it?”

Keith’s twilight eyes are full of confusion when he turns them on Shiro. “Uh, yeah. I thought we already covered that?”

“We did?”

“Yeah, when you asked me if I knew for sure that the forest usually has good taste.”

“That wasn’t exactly a confirmation!”

“It was,” Keith argues. “I can communicate with most of the plants here. Anything that’s a bush or bigger, essentially.”

“That’s amazing!” Shiro gushes.

“It’s pretty cool,” Keith agrees. He shoots Shiro a sideways glance. “Most people think it’s kind of weird.”

“No weirder than anything else,” he says with a shrug. “If the forest talks to you, how was I able to sneak up on you?”

Keith huffs. “They were conspiring against me, _apparently_.” He looks up at Shiro and there’s a spark of mischief burning behind his eyes. “You’re lucky it was a clear path or I would’ve heard you from a mile away.”

“Not my fault I don’t have much practice walking like some sort of wood sprite or something!”

“Wood sprite? That’s what you’re going with?” Keith asks with a raised eyebrow. There’s something perilously close to a smile dancing around the edges of Keith’s mouth.

Shiro makes a face. “Maybe not my best choice, but I was rushed.”

“Well, think on it,” Keith says. The smirk on his face looks like it lives there permanently.

Shiro has no response that’s anywhere near coherent so he keeps his mouth firmly shut.

They reach the path in another minute. Shiro steps onto it and turns to face Keith. “It was nice meeting you,” he says, out of words yet again.

“Yeah, you too,” Keith says. “See you around, Shiro.”

He gives a lazy little two-fingered salute paired with another smirk and then turns and walks away, practically melting into the trees in a way that seems half impossible.

Shiro stares for a moment longer then heads down the path that will lead him out of the forest. The smile on his face feels like it will never fade as he enjoys the happy buzzing feeling Keith left him with.

Shiro hopes that Keith’s parting remark is a promise.

He’s entirely smitten with this shadow-spark boy and can’t feel anyway other than delighted about it. He can’t wait for his next trip through the forest.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Dude, you’re completely spaced out,” Hunk says. “You alright?”

Shiro snaps back to the conversation with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, just thinking about something. What were you saying? Something about the system you’re building in the next town over?”

Hunk waves a hand. “Not important. Are you okay? I haven’t seen you space out like that since…” He trails off with an expressive look.

Shiro knows what that means. His friends never quite know how to refer to the time after he escaped Haggar’s control and spent months trying to piece himself together into some semblance of a function person.

He’s still not sure he’s managed it some days.

“I’m just saying, it’s been almost a year since you’ve done that,” Hunk puts in. There’s a gentle, worried look etched into his face. It’s a familiar expression. Shiro wishes he didn’t give Hunk so many reasons to worry about him.

He shakes his head and can’t contain the soft smile that tilts the corners of his lips. “I was thinking of something good this time, actually,” he admits.

Hunk’s eyebrows go up.“Oh?”

Shiro’s smile widens. “Yeah. I kinda… met someone.”

“You don’t just kind of meet someone, Shiro. You either do or you don’t,” Hunk teases.

“Fine, I met someone,” Shiro pauses, bites his lip. “I really like him, Hunk. I’ve only met him once and talked to him for like half an hour, but I can’t stop thinking about him.” He huffs out an amused breath. “It’s a little crazy.”

“This is great, Shiro!” Hunk enthuses, looking genuinely pleased to see his friend so excited. “Tell me about him. Where did you meet?”

“We met in the forest, the one near the border.”

Hunk gives him a sceptical look. “The haunted forest.”

“It’s not haunted,” Shiro protests. He thinks about the stories of the forest after nightfall and amends his statement. “It’s _probably_ not haunted.”

Hunk snorts and gestures for him to continue.

He tells him about how he’d felt someone watching him the last few times he’d been through and how he decided to find out who it was. He tells him about the way Keith was all grace and lethal beauty when he drew his blade and how there was a snap-spark way about him that lit Shiro on fire.

By the time he tells Hunk about the not-quite promise to meet up again, his friend’s eyes are wide.

He whistles, long and low. “You’ve got it bad, Shiro. Congrats.” He claps him on the shoulder, a bit harder than necessary and aims that big grin of his at him. “Come on, I’ll make some cookies to celebrate your crush. It’s a momentous occasion.”

“I’ll never turn down cookies from you,” Shiro says, trailing after him to the kitchen. A warning look from Hunk has him quickly taking a seat at the bar where he won’t accidentally ruin anything in the kitchen by just looking at it wrong.

Hunk swears he’s capable of doing just that.

“Now, have I told you about the city planner I’m working with for this project?” He asks.

Shiro shakes his head.

“Oh man, she is the best. Her name is Shay and she is just… she’s amazing.”


	2. Chapter 2

Shiro spends about a month in Balmera, traveling through the small, tight-knit communities offering his services as a healer and a general helping hand. His muscles are mildly sore from helping rebuild a house a day prior as he steps into the shade of the forest.

His pack is stuffed full with all the treats Hunk insisted on sending with him. Shiro smiles as he thinks of how much time Hunk had spent in the kitchen while he was there. He was nervous about his growing affections for Shay and channeled those nerves into baking.

Shiro had been more than happy to play taste tester for him. He’s even happier that Hunk finally decided to ask Shay over for a dinner date. He knows it’s going to go well and he couldn’t be more excited for his friend.

He almost feels guilty about being more excited to leave Hunk’s place and possibly see Keith again.

As he nears the halfway point of his chosen path, Shiro is starting to consider the possibility that he  _ won’t _ see Keith today. He is thinking about slowing his stride even further when a voice behind him interrupts the quiet of the forest.

“Hey there, stranger.”

Shiro spins quickly, heart pounding from the unexpected presence of someone at his back. Keith is standing on the path, smirk firmly in place. It drops quickly, morphing into a worried pinch to his mouth as he takes in Shiro’s expression.

“Shiro? Are you alright?” Keith takes a few steps closer. 

Shiro draws in a deep breath and wills his pulse to slow. This isn’t how he wanted Keith to see him, half a heartbeat away from a panic attack. He shakes his head to answer Keith’s question and focuses on steadying his breathing.

He can hear Keith talking, low and soft and steady but can’t quite make out the words over the buzz in his head. He’s aware of Keith slowly moving closer and isn’t surprised when the other man reaches out for him, carefully telegraphing his every motion. He takes Shiro’s left hand and guides his fingers to the pulse point on Keith’s wrist, giving him something else to focus on.

Slowly, Shiro pulls himself out of the well of panic, focusing on the strong rhythm underneath his fingers and matching his breaths with Keith’s. 

“You’re doing great, Shiro,” Keith murmurs. His voice is so soft, more honey than gravel in this moment. “You’re safe here, I promise.”

“I know,” Shiro manages. He loosens his grip on Keith’s wrist, belatedly realizing that he’d been gripping it far too tight. He can feel the shame that often follows these attacks start to rise, staining his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“Hey, nothing to be sorry for,” Keith says, quiet but fierce. “I’m the one who snuck up behind you. I should’ve known better.”

Shiro shakes his head. “No way you could’ve known.”

Keith looks a bit shamefaced. “I just thought I’d make it even since you got one over on me last time. I didn’t think about the fact that it’s generally a bad idea to sneak up on a soldier.”

“Ex-soldier.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Keith says, not willing to give in. “I’m sorry. It was stupid.”

“It’s fine,” Shiro says, giving him a tremulous smile. “No real harm done.”

Keith looks entirely skeptical about that.

“Thanks for helping pull me out of it.”

“No problem.” Keith tugs at the edges of his sleeves. Shiro is endeared by the small show of nerves. “You want to hang out for a bit? There’s a clearing just off the path here where we can sit, if you want.”

“Sounds great, Keith.” Shiro says. Dredging up a smile for him is easier than it usually is in the aftermath. “My friend sent me on my way with enough food to feed at least ten people and it’s mostly dessert. I’m willing to share if you’ve got a sweet tooth.”

Keith raises an eyebrow. “Do you actually know someone without a sweet tooth?”

Shiro laughs. “I do, actually. My ex just didn’t like dessert. He found everything overly sweet. Meant I never had to share, though.”

“He’s obviously wrong,” Keith says, eyebrows climbing higher. “What kind of person doesn’t like sweets?”

Shiro just shrugs and lets Keith lead him off the path and into the trees. He’s grateful that Keith is brushing off the panic attack and not pressing him about it. He wonders how Keith learned how to bring someone out of an attack like that but doesn’t ask. The courtesy of not prying should go both ways, in his opinion.

Keith comes to a stop in a clearing. The ground is covered in soft looking grass and the sun has come out to warm the spring afternoon. It looks peaceful and Shiro is suddenly overwhelmed with gratitude that Keith has brought him here to unwind.

Shiro eyes Keith’s guarded expression as the other man takes off his coat and sets it on the ground before sitting on it. Shiro sits crosslegged on the grass.

“Your pants are going to get wet,” Keith warns. “Rained a couple days ago. It’ll be another day before everything is dry.”

“I’d get cold without my coat on,” Shiro says with a shrug. Every layer feels important right now, like it is armor that can keep another panic attack at bay.

Keith makes a face that clearly says  _ suit yourself _ before leaning back on his arms, tilting his face up to the sun. Shiro stares, unabashed. The soft sunlight highlights all the sharp angles of Keith’s face and gilds the edges of his hair.

He’s beautiful and Shiro can’t breathe again for a moment, but this time he doesn’t mind.

There’s still tension in Keith’s limbs, like he’s ready to spring into action, into a fight, at the slightest provocation. Shiro wonders if he ever fully relaxes, ever completely lets down his guard.

Keith seems to be on guard at all times, but Shiro is not one to ask why, at least not yet. He only recently stopped tensing at every oddly shaped shadow, himself. Learning to relax is much more difficult than learning to be ready for an attack at any moment.

Keith takes a deep breath and then looks back at Shiro. His shoulders lose some of their tension and Shiro smiles.

“So,” Keith says, “I was promised dessert.”

“So you were,” Shiro agrees. He opens the pack he’d set beside him in the grass. “How do you feel about chocolate.”

“Very positively.”

Shiro picks the package that contains the triple chocolate brownies Hunk had made because he knows they’re Shiro’s favorite and tosses it to Keith.

“Those should satisfy any chocolate craving. I can personally vouch for them,” Shiro says.

“You help make them?” Keith asks, pausing as he unwraps the brownies.

Shiro snorts. “No. Hunk won’t even let me step foot in his kitchen. He claims I can ruin a recipe just by looking at it.”

“I’m not good at desserts but I can cook,” Keith says. “Had to learn since I live alone and don’t like to starve.”

He says it like he knows what it’s like to starve and is determined not to feel it again. It’s one more thing to add to the pile of questions Shiro has about Keith. He wants to peel back every layer and be able to look at the heart of him. He wants to know everything. He hopes he’ll have to chance to try.

Keith finishes unwrapping the brownies and closes his eyes as the scent of chocolate hits his nose. “Mmm, these are already ten times better than the ones I tried to make and I haven’t even tasted them yet.”

“Hunk is untouchable in the kitchen. It’s unfair to judge yourself by his standards,” Shiro tells him.

“Well, mine were somehow burnt on the outside and still almost raw in the middle so…”

Shiro laughs. “Okay, fair. I’m pretty sure I would just set them on fire, so you’re doing better than me.”

“Remind me to never let you into my kitchen. I’d like to keep my place intact,” Keith says, smirk reemerging finally.

“Rude.”

“Self-preservation,” he shoots back.

“See if I share the bounty of Hunk’s kitchen with you again.”

Keith bites into a brownie and Shiro watches his eyes roll back in his head, a hum of pleasure escaping his mouth.

Shiro twitches.

“This is so good,” Keith says, mouth still half full. “You can come burn down my shack if it means I can have more of these.”

“No house burning necessary,” Shiro says. He hopes Keith is too occupied with the brownie to notice the new tension in his voice. “I’ll be sure to ask Hunk for a double batch next time I see him.”

Keith swallows. “That who you were visiting in Balmera?”

“I stayed with him for part of my time there. He’s working on some projects and has enough connections to be able to point me to the places that could most use my skill sets.”

Keith takes another bite and nods. “You heading back to Altea?” he asks once he’s finished chewing.

“Yeah. My friend there insists that I visit her for a bit at least every other month, if at all possible,” Shiro says, fond smile darting on to his face. Allura is a force of nature and he’s pretty sure if he didn’t make it to one of his planned visits on time, she’d send an army to find him, if not come hunt him down herself.

He thinks she would be the more terrifying option of the two.

“Girlfriend?” Keith asks. He doesn’t look up from the package of brownies in front of him.

“No.” Shiro answers quickly and wonders if he was a little too forceful when Keith’s head jerks up to look at him. “Just a good friend who is very good at worrying about me,” he explains.

Keith picks up another brownie. “Those are good to have.”

“Yeah, they are.”

Shiro leans over and steals a brownie for himself. The two of them eat in silence for a couple of minutes.

“So, are you from Altea?” Keith asks.

Shiro shakes his head. “Born in the Garrison Republic. Lived there most of my life before I joined the war effort.” He pauses, eats another bite of a cookie he’d unwrapped. “Where are you from?”

Keith gives him an incredulous look and gestures at the forest around them. “Born here. Lived here my whole life. Citizen of the forest instead of any of the bordering countries. Pretty sure I don’t even exist on any census records for any country.”

“Interesting,” Shiro acedes with a thoughtful look. “Guess that means you’re hard to find if someone isn’t specifically looking for you.”

“I like it that way.”

They lapse back into silence. Shiro steals glances at Keith whenever he can. The tension is draining out of him more and more the longer they sit there. Shiro feels himself relaxing as well. The silence is easy with Keith in a way that it isn’t usually. He’s used to shared silent moments filled with unsaid words and a charge of tension.

He appreciates that Keith isn’t walking on eggshells with him after accidentally triggering his panic attack.

He looks over at his companion again and feels his breath catch. He’s leaning back on his arms again, eyes towards the sky. Shiro appreciates the view in full this time, gaze catching on and tracing the graceful line of his neck. The hollow at the base of his throat is a pool of shadow against sun-touched skin and Shiro wants to lap it up.

Shiro bites down on his bottom lip and looks away.

Keith suddenly makes a sound and turns his head towards a stand of trees to his right. 

Shiro looks between Keith and trees, confused. “Is something wrong?”

Red crawls up Keith’s face. “No. Nothing’s wrong.”

Shiro raises an eyebrow.

“They’ve just decided to be the peanut gallery all of a sudden,” Keith mutters. He swipes a hand through his hair. “Usually they wait until I’m alone to give me all of their unsolicited opinions.”

Shiro chuckles. “I’m honored, I guess.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

“What have you been keeping busy with this month?” Shiro asks once Keith’s blush has faded. “Get to threaten anyone with your knife?”

“No, no threatening necessary since I saw you,” Keith says.

“I feel a little bit honored that I merited threatening.”

“You’re weird.”

“Thank you.”

Keith shakes his head and looks away, but Shiro catches a momentary glimpse of his smile. It knocks the air out of him.

When he looks back at Shiro, his expression is back to its default neutral expression. “I’ve mostly been working on getting my garden planted,” he says. “It’s mostly done now, but it always takes awhile.”

Shiro has a vision of Keith working up a sweat without a shirt on and about sways on the spot. This crush is getting out of hand so fast. “What kind of stuff do you grow?”

“Vegetables, mostly. I can trade or sell what I don’t need in the nearby towns for other supplies. I’ve got an herb garden too.”

“I don’t know the first thing about gardening,” Shiro admits.

“That’s because you can’t cook,” Keith shoots back.

“They aren’t connected.”

“Kind of are.”

“Are not. I could have a green thumb and still be terrible at cooking.”

“Do you?” Keith asks with a raised eyebrow.

“Probably not.”

“Then my point stands.” Keith cards his fingers through the grass. “Gardening’s a lot of work but it’s worth it to see the plants grow and thrive.”

“Does being able to talk to the forest help with your gardening?” Shiro asks.

“A little,” Keith admits, letting another half-smile grace his features. “I can’t communicate with my garden but I’ve learned a lot about what plants need from the forest.”

Shiro nods.

“How was your trip to Balmera besides stealing baked goods from your friend?”

“I did not steal them,” Shiro says primly. “I earned all of those by being his official taste tester.”

“A hardship, I’m sure.” Keith’s voice is desert-dry.

Shiro flashes a grin. “He stress bakes and was working through the beginnings of a new crush. There were a lot of things to taste.”

“Poor you.”

“Other than that though, it was a productive trip. Mostly tended some minor fevers and a few broken bones. Administered some vaccinations in a couple of villages that needed them.” He smiled. “Got to attend a local party after I helped finish building a house.”

“Jack of all trades,” Keith teases with a huff of laughter. “Do a lot of house building?”

“Surprisingly, yes. Lots of places need another pair of hands and mine are usually as good as anyone elses.”

Keith’s eyes flit down to Shiro’s hands and then back up to his face. His face flushes a little.“Yeah, I bet they are.”

Shiro half wants to hide his right hand from view in case Keith picks up on the fact that something’s different about it. The metal is covered by his gloves and sleeve but he’s still self-conscious about it.

Keith looks at the sky and then gives Shiro an apologetic look. “I should probably get you back to the path so you have enough time to make it to the Altean side by dark.”

“Got a later start than I meant to this morning,” Shiro admits. “Was a bit sore from the house building and my bed felt so good.”

“Sure it wasn’t aftereffects from the party?” Keith asks. He sweeps his eyes over Shiro, appraising. “Maybe you’re just getting old.”

The tease in his voice takes all the sting out of the comment and Shiro laughs. “I defy you to not be sore after spending six hours hauling around building materials.”

“Yeah, see, the difference here is that I wouldn’t volunteer to do that,” Keith says. He stands and stretches, hands at the small of his back.

Shiro’s mouth goes dry as the movement pushes Keith’s hips forward. He runs his eyes over the arch of his back.

Keith finishes stretching and retrieves his coat from the ground. “But I do manage to do several hours of garden work without being sore, so I still bet that I wouldn’t be as sore as you after a house building session, old-timer.”

The wink he directs at him as Shiro scrambles to his feet about knocks him flat on his back. 

“I’m not that old,” Shiro grumbles.

“I know,” Keith says, that almost-smile on his face again as he looks over his shoulder. “You’re just easy to tease.”

“A tragic failing of mine,” Shiro agrees. He likes that Keith finds it easy to tease him. No one outside of his close circle of friends ever seems to try.

He follows Keith back to the path and they stand facing each other for a moment.

Keith scuffs the toe of his boot across the dirt path. “Guess I’ll see you around,” he says, looking up at Shiro through long, sooty lashes.

“Yeah,” Shiro breathes. He clears his throat. “I’ll be back through in a couple of weeks, I think.”

“Cool.” Keith brings his chin up. “See you then, Shiro.”

“Bye, Keith.”

Keith flashes a full-blown smile, bright and open and absolutely devastating, before turning and disappearing into the trees.

Shiro stands there for a full minute, shellshocked, before he manages to start walking, the memory of that smile playing on repeat in his brain.


	3. Chapter 3

Shiro arrives at the transportation hub just over the Altean border around dusk. He steps inside and eyes the line of vehicles for rent. There’s a line of people off to the side waiting for the next automated coach to arrive.

He’d rather rent one of the speeders and drive himself to Altea City but Allura would likely lecture him for being late. Sighing, he digs in his pack for the token Allura made him promise to keep on him at all times. It’s embossed on one side with the royal Altean crest and on the other with Allura’s personal seal.

He makes his way to a guarded room on the east side of the hub.

“Name please,” the guard asks, eyeing Shiro with a skeptical expression.

Shiro offers a disarming smile. The guard has every right to be suspicious. He knows he is covered in road dust and grass stains and looks nothing like the high level diplomats who usually use the teleport pads.

“Takashi Shirogane,” he says. He hold out his hand, palm up, showing the guard the token.

The man picks up the token and checks both sides of it before putting it back in Shiro’s hand and stepping aside from the door. “Safe travels, Mr. Shirogane,” he offers.

Shiro gives another polite smile and thanks him before stepping inside the room. There are three circular pads inside glowing a soft blue. Shiro steps onto the nearest one and a holographic control screen pops up. He shakes his head at how advanced the Altean magical technology has become and selects the east wing of the royal palace. He holds the token up to be scanned, confirming that he has the clearance to land on that particular pad.

Once the screen beeps a confirmation it disappears. Shiro takes a deep breath and tries to calm his racing pulse as the teleport pad powers up with a loud hum.

A bright white-blue flash blinds him. The sensation of being crushed and pulled apart at the same time crashes over him, pushing everything else to the background. When Shiro’s vision clears it’s to the sight of the receiving antechamber of Allura’s offices.

He steps off the pad with wobbly knees and collapses into one of the nearby chairs. Teleportation might be the fastest way to travel but it is nowhere near his favorite.

“Shiro? Is that you?” Allura steps out of her office. Her hair’s up in a bun and she’s dressed casually enough that Shiro lets out an exhale. He really doesn’t have the energy to talk to too many more people today and, luckily, it looks like Allura is planning on a private evening.

“Hey, Allura,” he says, dredging up a smile. His exhaustion is hitting hard now that he’s somewhere he considers safe.

“Still don’t like the teleporters?” She asks, looking him over.

Shiro shakes his head. “Much rather walk or take one of the speeders.”

“The teleport is much faster, you must admit,” she says.

“Yeah, still not my favorite.”

“Yes, alright.” She steps closer. “It’s good to see you, Shiro. You look exhausted.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Well, I feel exhausted so that’s not a surprise.”

“Have you been pushing yourself too hard again? You could have spent more time with Hunk. He’s usually good at forcing you to relax.”

“I’m fine, Allura. And Hunk’s busy wooing a Balmeran he met, I wasn’t going to hang around and be a third wheel.”

“Hmm.” She gives him an appraising look. “Come on, dinner should be ready and you look like you could use a good meal.”

Shiro knows there’s no point in arguing with her so he follows her into a small dining room across the corridor. There are steaming plates of food on the table and two place settings. Shiro waits for Allura to sit before sinking down into his chair.

“So, why do you look so ragged?” Allura asks as she piles food onto Shiro’s plate before adding some to her own. Shiro barely holds in a sigh at the sheer amount of food she’s served him.

“Do I really look that bad?” He deflects with a half-smile.

“Yes. Now, answer the question.” She takes a bite of the gelatinous goo that she loves. Shiro has always assumed that there’s some weird quirk to Altean tastebuds that makes them adore it because it just tastes bland to him.

He cuts a bite of meat and chews it slowly.

Allura glares at him. He considers blaming travel but Allura always knows somehow when she’s not getting the full story. It makes her a formidable diplomat and an all too astute friend.

He washes down his bite with a sip of water. “I had a panic attack on my way through the forest,” he says finally. “I’m fine now, but you know they always leave me drained.”

“Oh Shiro.” Her face is full of compassion and Shiro turns his gaze back to his plate. “What caused it?”

“I was startled by someone behind me,” he says.

“Someone? Were they trying to harm you?” Allura’s expression has gone hard. The spoon in her hand looks like it might be bending from her tight grip.

“No,” he rushes to assure her. “He actually, um, he’s a friend. He didn’t know that I sometimes have trouble with people showing up behind me suddenly.”

His friends are careful to make sure he’s always seated with his back to a wall instead of a doorway and Shiro loves them for it. They do tend to forget that other people don’t know to offer the same accomodation, though.

“Must be a new friend, then,” Allura says, curiosity shining in her eyes now. Her grip on her spoon has lightened back to normal but the utensil is never going to be the same. “I didn’t know you knew anyone right around the forest.”

“He lives in the forest, actually,” Shiro says before taking another bite.

Allura gives him a weird look. “No one lives _in_ the forest, Shiro.”

“Keith does.”

“Keith, huh?”

Shiro nods.

Allura arches one delicate eyebrow. “And what did this Keith do when he accidently caused you to have a panic attack?”

Shiro shrugs and scoops up another bite. “Talked me through it then hung out with me for an hour like it never happened.”

“Huh. That’s annoyingly exactly what I would’ve done.”

Shiro chuckles. “He’s pretty great. You’d like him, I think.”

“I’m not sure what to think about someone who supposedly lives in that specific forest,” she hedges.

“Are you telling me that you also believe that it’s haunted?”

“Also?”

“Hunk is positive it is,” Shiro explains.

“I’m not sure haunted is the right word,” Allura says. “But it does have a very… odd magical signature.”

“That might be because it’s maybe one of those places that’s got a deep magical connection to a specific family,” Shiro offers. “You know like the family that’s lived on that one mountain out west for forever?”

Another bite of goo slides off Allura’s spoon as she stares at Shiro. “How do you know that? I’ve never heard that there’s a family connection to the forest.”

Shiro’s a bit thrown by the look on Allura’s face. “Um. Because Keith has a connection to the forest that seems a bit like that? Stronger though, I think.”

“Again, how do you know this?” Her voice is a little shriller than normal and Shiro thinks she’s about five seconds from throwing her hands in the air and starting to pace.

It’s been a while since he’s managed to get her riled up like this. She hates not having all the information.

“I asked him,” he says, leaning back in his chair to watch her.

“Shiro, you can’t just ask someone if they have magic!” Allura protests. “That’s rude.”

Shiro shrugs. “He didn’t seem to mind.”

“Mhm.” She presses her lips together and narrows her eyes at him. “What aren’t you telling me, Shiro?”

Shiro puts on his best innocent expression, mostly to needle Allura further. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He takes another bite of food.

“Takashi Shirogane, what aren’t you telling me?” She kicks him in the shin just to make sure he’s paying attention.

He makes a face at her. “You’ve been hanging out with Lance too much. That kick is his move.”

She sniffs, a blush forming high on her cheeks. “Don’t try to change the subject.”

“How _is_ Lance?” He asks, deciding to push further. The blush is definitely new.

“He’s good. You can see him tomorrow after you’re rested. Stop changing the subject! Tell me whatever it is that’s got you grinning.”

Shiro tries to swallow back his grin but he knows it’s not working. He coughs. “I, um, I kind of have a crush on someone,” he says.

Allura squeals. “Shiro! Who’s the lucky guy?”

He raises an eyebrow, surprised she even has to ask after their conversation thus far. “Keith.”

“Okay, should’ve seen that coming. Tell me about him. What caught your eye?”

Shiro starts telling her all about how he met Keith, telling her about how he feels like he could drown in his eyes and wants to know if his hair is as soft as it looks and how he feels a bit like a lovestruck teenager again.

“I’ve only met him twice, Allura, but I want to know everything about him.”

She smiles gently. “I’m glad someone’s caught your attention, Shiro. He sounds wonderful.”

“It sounds like there’s a ‘but’ coming,” Shiro says with a pout.

“Just, be careful, alright?” She reaches over and rests a hand on his arm. “I don’t want you to get hurt and we don’t know anything about Keith.”

“He’s not dangerous,” Shiro argues. He thinks about the way he moves with a fighter’s grace and the way his knife seemed like an extension of his arm when it was in his hand. “Well, at least not to me.”

He’d purposefully left out the part of their first meeting where Keith drew a knife on him.

“I just worry about you. You know that.”

He sighs. “You can’t protect me from everything, Allura. I’m doing okay being back out in the world now. I’m helping people, I’m figuring myself out again. I’ve even got a crush!”

“I know,” she says, squeezing. “I promise I’m not trying to shield you from the world, I just…”

“You remember what I was like right after I got back,” he finishes softly.

Neither of them like to think of those first few weeks, the first couple of months, but they can’t forget them. Shiro had barely been able to leave his room, had refused to see anyone but Allura and Matt for ten days.

The witch took  him apart in every way she knew how in her quest to make him into a perfect weapon. She never bothered to put him back together when she was done dismantling him. Shiro is still figuring out how all the pieces of himself fit together here in the aftermath. He’s not sure he’ll ever feel complete again, if he’ll ever stop cutting himself open on his own unexpected jagged edges.

He clenches his right hand, feeling the metal respond to the impulse without hesitation. There are still days that he can’t bear to look at it. It’s been months since he’d agreed to let them design him a new arm.

Matt and Pidge and Hunk reverse engineered the arm Haggar had forced on him, wanting the same mobility and functionality it had without the controlling properties. It works beautifully. Shiro knows he’s lucky that his arm functions completely normally, but it looks like the witch’s work still.

On bad days, he sees it and for a second thinks he’s back in Haggar’s lab. He’ll power it up and let the soft blue of Altean magic soothe him, shaking with relief that it’s not the purple of the witch’s power.

“Shiro?” Allura is kneeling beside him, almost frantic with worry even as her voice stays calm. He didn’t see her move. “Shiro, please talk to me.”

“I’m fine,” he croaks. “Just, um, got lost in my head there for a second. It’s easier when I’ve already been there once today.”

She nods. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

His smile feels shaky but he still forces it onto his face. “Yes, Allura. I’m going to be fine. Sleep will have me back to myself in no time at all.”

She doesn’t quite look like she believes him but she backs off and returns to her chair. “You need to finish dinner first.”

He makes a face at his still full plate of food. “You can’t possibly expect me to eat all of this,” he complains.

“I can and I do. Finish your food and then you can go collapse on that rock you call a mattress.”

“It’s comfortable,” he says primly, stabbing a vegetable he only vaguely recognizes.

“It is not. I’m embarrassed it even exists in my castle.”

“Not technically yours, yet,” he points out. It’s an old joke between them since the palace is still her father’s. Allura is technically not the ruler of Altea yet, but she co-rules with her father Alfor. He often embarks on diplomatic trips abroad, leaving the country in Allura’s very capable hands.

She rolls her eyes, huffing in exasperation. “I’m firmly in charge of hospitality, as you well know. Your mattress is a stain on my reputation as a flawless hostess.”

“I like it and you don’t let anyone else sleep in that room anyways. No one else knows that it exists.”

She arches an eyebrow. “I know and that’s what matters. Besides, if you ever bring Keith to visit, you’ll be exposed as someone who likes sleeping on an actual rock instead of a soft bed.”

Shiro can feel his face turn red. “We are nowhere near that happening,” he says. He doesn’t look at her, pushing pieces of food around on his plate. “Besides, you don’t know that he’d want to stay in the same room as me.”

“If you think I’d let your crush stay anywhere else you are wrong,” she teases. “After all, if that mattress doesn’t scare him off, nothing will.”

“Why am I friends with you?”

“Because I give you no choice in the matter,” she says airly. “Now, stop pushing your food around and actually eat it.”

“I’m not that hungry,” Shiro admits. He eats another bite of something that might be related to pasta. It tastes enough like food he recognizes that he scoops up another spoonful. No matter how many times he visits, he’s never going to get used to Altean food.

“You need food,” Allura says. “Finish your dinner and then you can go get some rest. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

Shiro swallows hard. “That sounds ominous,” he says.

She just shakes her head, stonefaced.

“Allura…”

“Shiro.”

He knows better than to argue with that particular tone of voice when he’s lacking his normal energy, so he returns to their innocuous conversation of earlier. “I’m not going to finish all of this.”

“You are. You will sit there until your plate is empty.”

He rolls his eyes. “You don’t have to mother me.”

“I will mother you until you learn how to do it yourself,” Allura informs him. “And then I will mother you some more.”

Shiro groans. “Fine.”

They finish their dinners with a minimum amount of talking. Shiro is truly dragging now and he thinks Allura must have caught on to how tired he is.

He doesn’t quite finish all the food Allura served him but he’s put enough of a dent in it that she doesn’t complain with more than a raised eyebrow. He doesn’t need an escort but Allura leads him to the room he always uses when he’s visiting anyways.

“It’s good to see you,” she says, wrapping him in a hug when they reach the door to his room.

“You too, Allura,” he says, hugging her back. His cheek presses into her cloud of white hair. After the day he’s had with saying goodbye to Hunk, a panic attack, the joy of spending time with Keith, and then dinner with Allura, he feels dangerously close to just cracking open under the gentle pressure of his friend’s embrace.

He draws in a shaky breath. Allura squeezes him tighter and then pulls back, hands still resting on his arms as she looks at him. “Get some rest, Shiro. You know where to find me if you need anything.”

Shiro nods. He’s not going to wake Allura up for anything short of a life or death emergency but she doesn’t need to know that.

“Goodnight, Shiro.” She squeezes his arms and then lets go.

“Night, Allura.”

He steps inside his room and closes the door. As soon as Allura’s footsteps have faded to nothing, he slumps against the door, letting his head fall back against the wood.

He stays there for a handful of moments, sucking in deep breaths and trying to convince his hands to stop shaking. Shiro opens his eyes and drags himself forward towards the ensuite. His favorite thing about the room isn’t the mattress Allura hates, it’s the shower.

Shiro turns on the water and sets it as hot as he can stand before stripping off his clothes. He steps underneath the spray and lets the scalding thrum of the water against his shoulders wash away the dust of the road and the feeling that he might shatter at a single touch. He takes a deep breath and lets the steam fill his lungs. The jittery feeling in the pit of his stomach starts to ease.

He’s safe here.

He reaches for the shampoo and quickly washes up.

Shiro falls asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow.

He dreams of Keith and those big violet eyes and his impossibly long legs in a sunlit clearing.

He wakes with a scream stuck in his throat when the dreams shift to crackling purple-black light and a raspy voice telling him all the ways he’s about to be ripped apart.

* * *

 

Shiro is already on his third cup of coffee when Allura, an early riser by nature, walks in with a cup of tea in hand.

“I wasn’t expecting you up this early,” she says, taking a seat on opposite end of the sofa from him.

Shiro had settled in the waiting area of Allura’s office, knowing she’d find him there eventually. He shrugs. “Can only sleep for so long at a time.” He sees the worried look on Allura’s face and rushes to mitigate the comment. “Things to do, you know.”

“Mmm.” She doesn’t sound like she believes him and he doesn’t blame her. He doesn’t sound particularly convincing and he rather doubts that the coffee has cleared the dark circles out from under his eyes.

“So, what was it you wanted to talk about today?” Shiro asks.

Allura’s face drops into the carefully neutral mask she uses to deal with foreign dignitaries and Shiro’s stomach flips. “You should come into my office.”

Shiro puts his mug down and the quiver to his hands makes it clatter against the table before he can settle it. Allura reaches out and grasps his hand. “There’s something worrying but it’s not immediate, Shiro. You’re safe right now, I promise.”

He manages a nod and then gets to his feet. He rolls his shoulders. “Okay. Let’s get this over with then.”

Allura’s mouth thins further but she leads him into her private office and closes the door. She presses her hand against the wood and a flash of blue washes over the door and spreads out to coat the walls and ceiling before fading away.

“That serious?” Shiro asks, recognizing the wards against eavesdropping and unauthorized entry.

She sits in one of the chairs in front of her desk and motions for Shiro to take the other one. He’s grateful that she didn’t claim the position of power behind her desk. At least this way he feels like he’s talking to his friend instead of the Crown Princess of Altea.

Allura takes a deep breath and her hands have each other in a death grip in her lap.

“Just spit it out, Allura. I’m not going to break,” Shiro says. The waiting will break him, not whatever Allura is about to throw at him. He can handle any threat but the vague unknown.

“My sources,” she stresses the second word in a way that Shiro knows means she’s implying the spies who work on behalf of Altea, “have reported recent sightings of the witch Haggar in Taujeer.”

Shiro hisses in a breath, his body going rigid. He’d known, logically, that Haggar was still out there somewhere but he’s heard nothing about her in the year since his escape. He’d started to hope that maybe she was gone.

“We don’t know what she’s up to,” Allura continues, watching him closely as he wills himself to relax, “but the fact that she’s ventured past the borders of the Galra Empire does not sit well with anyone.”

“Is your father…”

“He’s keeping abreast of the situation,” Allura says. She looks down. “You know he feels responsible for all of it. He wants so badly to fix it.”

Haggar was once a highly respected Altean alchemist and a friend of King Alfor’s. No one knew until too late that she was dabbling in magic best left alone. She’d defected to the Galra  Empire and the next time she’d appeared, she was wielding a corrupted combination of Altean and Galran druid magic that no one had ever seen.

It was almost two decades later that she got her hands on Shiro.

“It’s not his fault,” Shiro reassures her.

She nods. “We’re trying to keep tabs on her whereabouts but it is… difficult.”

Shiro huffs. “That’s putting it mildly.”

“I just… I wanted you to know,” she says, “that we’re doing everything we can to make sure she doesn’t cause any more harm or get anywhere close to you.”

Her eyes are fierce, a storm-roiled ocean.

“I know you are, Allura.” He reaches out and puts a hand over hers where they’re clasped in her lap, prompting her to loosen her grip. “I know you are.”

She exhales and suddenly she looks like a young woman with too much resting on her shoulders instead of the confident royal she usually shows the world. “I don’t want you to get hurt again.” She gives him an imploring look. “Please promise me you’ll be careful travelling. Check in with me and the others as much as possible.”

“I promise.”

Allura tugs him forward into a hug. “I know you don’t want me to worry, but I can’t help it.”

He laughs lightly. “I don’t think I’d recognize you if you didn’t worry about me. You always have, long before all of this.”

She pulls back and fixes him with another serious look. “Really, Shiro, be as careful as you can manage. Don’t… don’t trust people you don’t know.”

He makes a face. “I can’t ask people to trust me as a healer without extending that trust in return. You know that.”

“You’re quick to trust even outside of the bounds of your profession,” she says. “You already seem to trust this Keith even though you’ve only met him twice. You know nothing about him, Shiro.”

“He’s trustworthy, Allura. I can feel it. Trust my judgement. Please?”

Allura sighs. “Alright. Can I at least make some inquiries about him?”

“No. Trust me.”

“And I suppose you won’t let me send a bodyguard with you?” She looks like she already knows the answer to her question.

“Not a chance.” Shiro says with a laugh.

“Worth a shot,” Allura replies, shrugging as a smile tilts her lips upwards. “Now, I have work to do. Either go try to get another couple hours of sleep or find something to keep you entertained. It will be a bit before Lance is awake.”

Shiro leans back in his chair and raises his eyebrows at her, smirk forming on his lips. “Well acquainted with his sleeping habits now?”

Allura flushes. “No! Not like that! It’s just… Shiro, you ass, we all know he’s not a morning person. Stop teasing me!”

He laughs and it rumbles up from somewhere deep inside of him, banishing the prickly feeling of anxiety from their conversation. “Fair game, Princess. You teased me about my crush which means I get to tease you about _Lance_.”

Allura drops her face into her hands with a groan. “I’m not talking about this right now. Go away.”

“Fine,” he acedes. “But I’m ready to listen when you do want to talk about it. It’s still new, I’m guessing?”

She nods. “It, uh, it snuck up on me.”

Shiro schools his face into a neutral expression. “I’m letting this go for now but I retain the right to be merciless about is at some later date.”

“Noted.” Allura leans back with a groan. “Why am I friends with you?”

He grins, bright and mischievous. “Don’t know.”

“Go away, you big nuisance,” she says. “Lance usually heads down to the training grounds after breakfast. You should be able to catch him there.”

Shiro gets to his feet and Allura waves at the door. The walls and door flash blue and then the color fades, melting away.

“See you later, Allura.”

He picks up the coffee mug he left in the waiting room and carries it back to the breakfast room. Food and more coffee will help the news Allura gave him settle. He feels like he should be more shaken by the fact that Haggar has been seen but it’s almost a relief. Knowing where she is or where she’s been is better than jumping at every shadow. Knowledge is power, in this case.

Shiro heaps food onto his plate and finds a place to sit. Other people are starting to wander in for breakfast. He waves at a few that recognizes but mostly keeps his focus on his plate so no one will try to come talk to him.

He’s going to see Lance and Coran shortly and he anticipates he will get his fill of being talked to between the pair of them. He smiles at the prospect. It’s always good to see his friends.

Shiro drains the rest of his coffee and stands. He can probably get through his workout before Lance finds him, he thinks. He deposits his plate and mug on the side table meant for used dishes and leaves the room, heading for the training grounds.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay! had a block on the end of this chapter but here it is! and Lance has finally made an appearance! :)

Shiro spends three days in the Altean capitol before leaving for Arus. His route doesn’t take him through the forest but he considers swinging through anyways to see if he runs into Keith.

He decides it’s just a little too far out of the way and continues on to the foothills near the western border of Arus. The next two weeks fly by as he travels from village to village, treating a fever outbreak sweeping through the semi-remote towns.

He always enjoys visits with the Arusians. The people are effusive and forthright and always make him feel welcome. By the time he’s leaving the last village, though, he’s craving a few hours of quiet, his social energy almost completely depleted. He’s had a good night’s rest though, and the sun is just barely risen over the horizon so he sets out on the road after thanking his hosts. 

The solitude of the path is a balm and by the time he sees the edge of the forest up ahead of him, he’s fully looking forward to the possibility of seeing Keith. He knows there’s a chance that they won’t meet up today since Shiro is just cutting through a small corner of the woods to get from Arus to the Altean border.

If going through the forest is technically out of his way, no one is around to call him on it.

Shiro steps into the forest and feels the temperature drop as the sunlight struggles to make it through the leafy canopy. He tugs his coat closer to him and fights the urge to quicken his pace. He’ll suffer through slightly chillier temperatures for a longer period of time if it gives Keith a chance to come find him.

He’s been walking for less than ten minutes when he rounds a curve in the path and finds Keith standing there, enigmatic smirk plastered on his face.

Shiro rocks back on his heels and smiles at him. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Was starting to think you forgot all about me,” Keith says with a raised eyebrow. The words are teasing but there’s a glint in his eyes that hints at him speaking the truth.

“My schedule isn’t always predictable,” Shiro offers in lieu of an apology. “Spent the last two weeks treating an outbreak of Rinsian Fever in the Arusian foothills.”

Keith makes a face. “That’s never a fun one.”

“At least it’s not overly dangerous,” Shiro says with a shrug. “But I could do for a few consecutive days of not being thrown up on, if I’m being honest.”

Keith laughs and it sends something vibrating through Shiro. “I bet so.” He levels an assessing stare on him, sharp eyes catching on the bags under his eyes and the slump of his shoulders. “You look like shit, Shiro.”

“I’m abundantly aware,” he says, voice dust-dry. “Feel like it too. I’m going to sleep like the dead tonight.”

Keith steps closer, concern etched on his face. He reaches out slowly and sets the back of his hand against Shiro’s forehead. Shiro tries not to lean into the contact but he’s not sure he’s successful in his restraint.

“You don’t feel warm, so hopefully you didn’t catch that fever.”

Shiro shrugs and Keith’s hand drops. “Built up an immunity to most things.” He’d also had some immunities built up for him through the witch’s experiments as she tried to make him into some variation of a perfect soldier. He pushes those thoughts down viciously. Not the time nor place for them.

“Guess you’d have to as a healer,” Keith says with a tiny hint of a smile. “Got a few minutes to hang out or…”

“I’m only heading to the southwest Altean transport hub,” Shiro tells him. “Barely twenty minutes away and as long as I’m there by dark, it’s all good.”

“Okay.” Keith studies him again and then inclines his head toward a trail Shiro hadn’t even seen. “Come on then. Follow me.”

He follows Keith down the barely-there path to a small clearing. Keith sits with his back up against a tree. Shiro wastes no time in sprawling out on his back on the grass with a groan, any inkling of shame taking a backseat to his exhaustion.

“Really ran you ragged, didn’t they?” Keith asks quietly.

Shiro doesn’t open his eyes. “Yeah. The villages out there are really isolated so when a healer or doctor comes through, they have a lot of work for them, even when there’s not a fever going around.”

Shiro cracks an eye and trains it on Keith. “They also are  _ very _ enthusiastic about visitors. I never want to see another dance of thanks ever again, or eat anything resembling junian buns for at least two months.”

Keith snorts. “How many did they foist on you?”

“Too many. I even like them! But there’s a limit, Keith, and they passed that within the first week.”

“Poor baby,” Keith cooes, laughter hanging off the words.

Shiro reaches in his bag, digging around blind until his hand closes around one of the slightly stale buns stashed in there. He pulls it out and throws it at Keith. He hears instead of sees it hit him square in the chest, startling a full blown laugh out of the other man.

“Are you going to give me food every time you come through?” Keith asks when he can form words again.

Shiro glares at him, readjusting so his arms are under his head and he can see Keith.

“I’m just saying, maybe I would’ve stopped hiding in the bushes if I knew you were going to give me food.”

“You’re the worst.”

Keith bites into the junian bun instead of answering. Crumbs spill onto his shirt as he devours it. Shiro can’t look away.

He wishes he could blame it completely on the exhaustion. He closes his eyes before he blurts out something about how gorgeous Keith is. In his current state, Shiro doesn’t think he’d survive the embarrassment.

“I hope you’re not planning on trying to drive a speeder when you get to the hub,” Keith says after a moment.

Shiro forces his eyes back open. “Why?”

Keith snorts. “Because right now I barely trust you to walk, much less drive at high speeds. Take the coach for once so I don’t worry about you.”

“What makes you think I normally take a speeder?”

“Seem like the type who likes going fast,” he says with a shrug.

“Mmm, you’re not wrong,” Shiro agrees. “I would prefer to take a speeder but Allura lectures me when I do and it’s usually not worth it. I have a token for the teleporters.” He wrinkles his nose. “I kind of hate them, but they are convenient.” 

He turns to share his conspiratorial smile with Keith, only to be met with his friend gaping at him. “What?”

“The friend you visit in Altea is  _ Allura _ ? As in Princess Allura who rules the country?”

“Co-rules, but yes.” A wrinkle forms between Shiro’s brows. “Is that a problem?”

Keith shakes his head. “I just… am surprised I guess. Not every day you find out that someone’s friends with a princess.”

“She’s a person like everyone else.”

“Yeah, of course.” He ducks his head, hair falling into his face. “Just, don’t usually expect people who are friends with the ruler of a country and probably other important people to hang out in the forest with someone like me.”

Shiro drags himself into a sitting position, overtaxed muscles complaining at the sudden movement. “Hey, you’re an important person too, Keith.”

Keith glances up at him. “Not like that.”

“Also,” Shiro continues, “you’re my friend too. In case you weren’t aware of that.”

The smile that spreads over Keith’s face is a sunrise personified. He ducks his face again to hide it. “Yeah, well, you’re my friend too.”

“Good,” Shiro says. “I can sincerely say that you’re the only friend I made who threatened me with a knife  _ before _ talking to me.”

Keith snorts. “Are you saying your other friends waited until after they’d talked to you?”

“Yup.” Shiro makes an exaggerated popping sound at the end of the word.

“All of them?” Keith sounds on the verge of laughter.

Shiro thinks about it. “I was going to say Hunk, but he has waved a knife in my direction while protecting his kitchen. I don’t think Pidge has directly threatened me with any kind of blade.”

“That doesn’t sound like they haven’t threatened you with other objects.”

“Pidge has threatened me with many things,” Shiro intones, face schooled into a serious expression, “just never a knife. How can I even call her a friend?”

Keith shakes his head, lips twitching with suppressed mirth. “You are the weirdest person I have ever met.”

“Thank you.”

They fall into silence again. Shiro flops back onto the grass, not wanting to be even partially upright if he doesn’t have to be.

“Can I ask how you ended up friends with the Altean princess?” Keith asks after a bit.

“Sure, it’s not a secret or anything. My grandparents took me on a trip to the capitol city as a kid. I wandered off.”

“Shocker,” Keith drawls.

Shiro sniffs dramatically. “Rude. Anyways, I wandered off and found this small park with a creek and bridge that spanned it. I went and sat on it and within five minutes Allura was next to me, informing me that I was her new best friend because her old one was mean and she wasn’t talking to her anymore.”

Keith chuckles. “That’s one way to make a friend.”

“It’s very Allura,” Shiro agrees with a laugh. “She’s a force of nature, even back then. By the time her chaperone found us, we really were friends, in the way that only seven year olds who’ve known each other for half an hour can be. She insisted that someone be sent to find my grandparents and that we were all coming back to the palace with her to stay for the rest of our trip. We’ve been friends ever since. Spent most of our childhoods writing letters to each other.”

“Definitely sounds like a force of nature,” Keith says. “Sounds like a good friend, too.”

“She is.” Shiro sits up with a groan. “But if I don’t get moving and make it to the transport hub soon, she will not hesitate to make my life hell.”

“What else are friends for?” Keith gets to his feet with a loose-limbed grace that Shiro envies at this particular moment. “Come on, big guy.”

He reaches down and grabs hold of Shiro’s wrists to help pull him to his feet. Shiro’s moment of panic that he’ll feel the difference between his prosthetic and his regular wrist has him scrambling to his feet with more force than either of them anticipated.

Shiro falls into Keith’s chest, sending him stumbling backwards a couple steps. He hadn’t expected Keith to be quite so strong. It’s honestly a miracle that words to that effect don’t escape his mouth.

This newly acquired knowledge can ruin his life later, in private, without adding more embarrassment to the mix.

“Woah,” Keith says, voice unexpectedly close to Shiro’s ear. “We were less than graceful with that. You sure you’re good to walk to the hub?”

Shiro reluctantly steps back and out of Keith’s supportive embrace. He rubs at the back of his neck with one hand. “Yeah. I can make it that far without passing out or collapsing, especially after this break. Might not be in the military anymore but I’ve still got great stamina.”

Red creeps over Keith’s cheeks and Shiro feels his own face flush half a second later as he replays his words in his head.

“Oh my god,” Shiro says, covering his face. “I need to just stop talking immediately.”

Keith snickers, smile making an appearance. “Well, I think you’re awake enough to make it to the transport hub now.”

“Mortification will do that,” Shiro agrees. “Can I convince you to forget the last minute ever happened?”

“Not a chance.” 

Shiro is treated to a full-on grin, Keith’s purple eyes sparking with amusement. His flush creeps under his collar, making him forget that the day is on the chilly side. Shiro lets out a dramatic sigh. “Fine, lead me back to the path so I can get to the part of my day where I beat myself over the head while I walk to the hub.”

Keith knocks his shoulder against Shiro’s. “None of that.”

“Going to languish in absolute, devastating embarrassment. If you never see me again, know that I died as I lived.”

“Being dramatic?”

“Yes.”

Keith laughs, loud and unashamed and utterly enchanting. Shiro is positive that his face is just stuck on a permanent flush at this point as he follows Keith back to the main path.

“Be safe, Shiro,” Keith says, a small smile still lingering around the corners of his mouth. “Don’t fall asleep walking or anything like that.”

“The amount of embarrassment I’ve gotten myself into in the last five minutes should keep me awake until the hub,” Shiro promises. “Don’t know exactly when I’ll be back through. Going to check in with Allura and then head out to the Garrison to see some friends and restock some of my supplies.” He lifts his eyebrows. “Perks of having graduated from the academy and enlisted and all that is a deep discount at several places.”

Really, he has to convince several shopkeepers to let him pay once they recognized him. The commissary did offer him discounts as an alum and as a veteran, though.

Keith snorts. “Not that big of a perk but it’s something.”

“Definitely something,” Shiro agrees.

“I’ll see you next time you come through.” Keith’s words sound like a promise and Shiro really hopes that it’s one that is kept. “The forest will let me know when you’re here.”

“Perks,” Shiro shoots back with a smile.

“Better ones than yours.”

Shiro rolls his eyes. “Until next time, Keith.”

“See ya, Shiro.”

Shiro watches him disappear into the forest before setting off down the path.

His feet are dragging and his bag feels much heavier than normal by the time he reaches the transport hub. He manages to dredge up a smile for the guard at the teleport room and it feels like the very end of his energy.

Shiro fumbles his way through the teleport controls and listens to the hum of the pad ramp up. The familiar, disconcerting crush of teleportation engulfs him and then spits him out in Allura’s office suite, as usual.

He stumbles forward and into one of the nearby chairs without looking up from his feet.

“Well,” a voice drawls out, “you look like hell.”

A smile fights its way onto Shiro’s face through the fog of exhaustion. “Surprisingly, you’re not the first one to tell me that,” he says. He drags his eyes up from the floor to see his friend lounging across a couple of chairs. “Hey, Lance.”

“Hey Shiro.” He swings his legs around so his feet are actually on the ground. “Allura got called out to deal with the aftermath of a minor flood in Riluta. Needed some royal handholding and all that jazz. Told me you were likely to be showing up today.”

“Let me guess, she didn’t want me to show up and find no one here.”

“Yep. So, thanks for hating teleporters, got me out of supervising sword drills.”

“Are you even qualified to do that?” Shiro distinctly remembers the first time Lance picked up a sword. It hadn’t been pretty.

“Yes! I’ve had a lot of practice since the  _ incident _ ,” Lance tells him. “Still better with long distance weaponry but I can hold my own with a sword.” He ducks his head a little bit. “Think I’m better at teaching it since I worked so hard to learn how to wield one.”

“Good for you, Lance,” Shiro says, smile growing.

“So, why do you look like you got trampled and then dragged here?”

“Rinsian Fever outbreak in Arus. Arusians in general,” he says. “Take your pick.”

Lance laughs. “They can wear you out. I love visiting them.”

“It’s always an experience,” Shiro agrees. He yawns. “I’m ready to call it a night.”

“I’ll walk you up,” Lance says. He stands and offers a hand to help pull Shiro to his feet. “Allura might murder me if I don’t live up to her level of hospitality.”

“I don’t know, she might go easy on you,” Shiro says slyly.

“Nuh-uh,” Lance argues. “Oh shit, I should offer you food. Do you want food before sleep?”

Shiro thinks of the junian buns in his bag and weighs them against Altean food and its oddities.

“Sleep first,” he decides. “If I wake up before the kitchens have breakfast going, I have a surplus of junian buns in my bag.”

“Ah, Arusians,” Lance says. He looks over at Shiro and does a doubletake. “What is that look?”

Shiro schools his face quickly but not before he realizes that he’d been smiling as he thought back to telling Keith about the junian buns. “What look?”

Lance narrows his eyes. “That dopey, sappy smile you were just wearing.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Shiro starts up the stairs, tips of his ears burning.

“Yes you do. Does it have anything to do with that guy you mentioned last time you were here? Forest guy?”

“Keith,” Shiro reminds him automatically before cringing.

“Ah yes, how could I forget? Keith. You were all gooey-eyed about him.”

“Gooey-eyed? That’s the best you can do?”

“Seeing you with a crush is a new experience, dude. Gotta give me time to feel out the right lingo.”

Shiro rolls his eyes, despite the fact that Lance is behind him and can’t see it. He feels like he does it hard enough for his friend to sense it.

“So. Keith. Still has you walking on air, huh? Run into him on your way here?”

“Yeah.”

“Want to talk about it?”

Shiro shoots a look over his shoulder. “Not right now.”

Lance grins. “I’ll save the interrogation for tomorrow, then.”

Shiro groans. “Do you do this to Hunk? He had a new crush last time I was there.”

“Yes, I let him talk my ear off about Shay last time I talked to him.” Lance claps him on the shoulder as they come to a stop outside of Shiro’s room. “Just gotta make sure your crush is good enough for you, Shiro. It’s what friends do.”

“Thanks, Lance,” Shiro says quietly. “Means a lot.”

“Course. I’ll, um,” he rubs at the back of his neck, “I’ll see you tomorrow. Get some rest or I’ll actually be able to beat you in training. No one’s ready for that.”

Shiro laughs. “Goodnight.”

“Night.” Lance tosses him a gesture that’s half wave and half salute before sauntering off.

Shiro just shakes his head and opens the door to his room, ready for some solitary recovery time. He settles into bed after making use of the shower. He pulls up the memory of Keith’s smile and the rasp of his laugh and drags them into slumber with him, hopeful that they will appear in his dreams.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies once again for the delay on getting this chapter up! had some exchange fics with deadlines to write but those are finished and i can get back to this! Pidge and Matt make their debut in this one. Think that officially means the gang's all here :)

Shiro takes a speeder from the Altean capitol to the Garrison Academy after a couple days of rest. The trip takes a couple of hours, even with the way he tests the upper limits of the machine’s speed, but it’s so much better than another teleportation trip. The wind rips by him, a steady roar of white noise tugging at his jacket and pants.

He’s smiling when he pulls into the hangar on academy grounds and cuts the engine.

“You’re late,” a voice from off to his left says.

Shiro’s smile stretches into a grin as he pulls off his helmet and turns to face his friend. “Got here as fast as I could, Pidge.”

She rolls her eyes. “No, fast as you could would’ve been taking the teleporters, not seeing if you could make a speeder break the sound barrier.”

“My way’s more fun.” He retrieves his bag from the storage compartment of the speeder and replaces it with the helmet. “Sound barrier’s still intact, by the way.”

“I know. Even you can’t get an unmodified speeder to go that fast.”

He nudges her with an elbow. “Still going to try, though.”

Pidge looks like she’s forcibly restraining herself from rolling her eyes again. “Of course you are.”

“Do I get a hug for making it here in one piece?” He opens his arms wide.

She narrows her eyes at him but steps forward to give him a bruising hug. “Welcome home, Shiro. Glad you didn’t crash on your way here.”

“Good to see you too,” he says with a chuckle. It feels weird to hear the academy, or the Garrison in general, referred to as his home. It hasn’t felt like home in a long time. Nothing has, really. It makes the constant travelling easier somehow, he thinks.

“Come on, go drop your stuff in your room and come to the lab. I want to check your arm.”

“That’s why I’m here.”

“You’re here to see us, too. Don’t lie.” She starts towards the door leading into the building proper and Shiro follows.

“I live in fear of the Holt family tracking me down if I don’t visit often enough,” Shiro says with a smile. He’s really only half joking. The entire family adopted him back when he was still in the academy and they are all terrifyingly smart and motivated.

“You should be,” she agrees. “Now, go. Meet me in the lab once you’re squared away.”

“Give me half an hour,” he says. “I want to take a shower before you start poking at my arm. Wash all the dirt off after the drive.”

She wrinkles her nose. “Fine. Half an hour. Don’t be late this time.”

Shiro ruffles her hair and accepts the punch to the ribs he gets in retaliation. “You got it, Pigeon.”

“I hate you so much.”

“Aww, I thought you were happy to see me. I’m wounded.”

She pushes her glasses up her nose and doesn’t answer with anything but raised eyebrows.

“Already have to put up with that from Matt and don’t want to deal with me, too?”

“Yup.”

“You only have to put up with me for short periods of time. I have to get all my teasing in.”

“Stow it, Shiro,” she growls, but there’s a smile tugging at her lips.

“Nope.” He spots the turnoff to the residential wing and throws her a sloppy salute. “See you in a bit, Katie.”

Her grumbling follows him down the hallways and makes him laugh. This may not be home anymore but it’s still good to be back.

Once he’s showered and changed into fresh clothes, Shiro heads to the Holts’ lab. He nods at the handful of people in the hallway that he recognizes and tries to push down the buzz of nerves at the imminent examination of his arm.

He’s more than grateful for all the work the Holts and the rest of his friends put into designing and building the incredibly advanced prosthetic, but having it poked at, even by a friend, still set him on edge. It always pulls memories of his time with the witch too close to the surface.

Pidge’s lab is bright with the afternoon light spilling in the wall of windows and reflecting off the metal tables and various machines and parts Shiro doesn’t recognize. Its chaos is familiar, as is the itch to organize something.

“Knock knock,” he calls out, not seeing Pidge anywhere.

Her head pops up from behind one of the machines, goggles pushed up into her hair, making it even wilder than normal. “You’re actually on time.”

“I’m always on time.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“I had a perfect attendance record here,” he protests. “Not a tardy to my name.”

Pidge snorts and tosses her goggles down on a table and replaces them with her glasses. “You’re friends with Matt. I don’t trust your records to actually be accurate when I know how easy it is to hack in.”

“You and Matt are the only ones that find hacking the Academy systems easy.”

“Not my fault no one’s on our level,” she shoots back. “Head on over to our normal spot. I’m gonna grab a few things.”

Shiro sheds his jacket and hops up on the counter next to Pidge’s usual testing tools. He rolls up his right sleeve so the entirety of the prosthetic is visible. He takes a couple of deep breaths and lets them out slowly.

Pidge comes over with a datapad in her hand. 

“That’s new,” he says, nodding at it.

“Yup. We’re trying to get the Academy to adopt them. They’re way easier than the bulky things they’re using and way more efficient than paper.”

Shiro nods and watches her tap at the screen. She puts it down after a moment and gives him an assessing look. “Any issues with the arm since the last time you were here?”

“Nothing to report,” he says. “No problems with the arm.”

“Okay, I’m going to run my normal diagnostics,” she tells him. Her gaze is still sharp enough to set him shifting in his seat. “Tell me if you start getting uncomfortable at all. I don’t care if you think it’s a stupid reason or that you shouldn’t. You tell me and I’ll stop and we’ll pick it up when you’re feeling better.”

Shiro swallows hard. “I will. Thank you.”

“Good.” She rests a hand on his prosthetic and runs it down to the barely visible edge of the maintenance panel near his elbow. “Now, tell me what has you in such a good mood this visit.” 

Shiro smiles and spends the entire checkup telling her about how he met Keith and the way he makes him feel lighter than he has in what feels like forever. He barely registers the series of tests Pidge is running other than when she gives him instructions to move his fingers or arm.

It’s the easiest he’s ever made it through one of these check-ups.

Pidge closes up the maintenance panel and picks up her datapad. “All good,” she tells him. “Matt should be here in a minute if he’s actually checking his messages.”

Shiro nods and runs his hand over where Pidge closed up the panel. “That was more painless than usual.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Is there usually pain involved?”

“Not exactly,” he hedges. “I guess my brain just expects there to be so I’m usually a lot more tense.”

“You were too busy telling me far more about your crush than I ever needed to know to be nervous today,” she says flatly.

Shiro grins at her. The expression is still full and bright when the lab door slams open and Matt saunters in.

“I’m here at your request, oh demanding sister of mine.”

“About time,” she mutters. “Shiro’s been here for ages.”

“Hey, Matt,” Shiro chimes in.

Matt takes one look at Shiro’s face and whirls around to glare at Pidge. “No,” he says, pointing a finger at her. “I did not agree to this. You didn’t warn me.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Agree to what? I just wanted you to double check the readings from his arm and I figured you’d want to see Shiro. You know, your  _ best friend _ .”

“I do want to see him but I know that look on his face.”

Pidge smirks and glances quickly at Shiro before focusing back on Matt. “What look?”

“The starry eyed look. He has a crush.”

“So what if I do?” Shiro cuts in.

Matt makes a pleading face. “Shiro, I love you man, but you’re a disaster when you have a crush. It’s  _ painful _ to watch.”

“You haven’t heard him go on about this  _ Keith  _ for twenty minutes straight,” Pidge mutters.

“Traitor,” Shiro hisses.

“I don’t  _ want _ to hear him,” Matt says, but he sits down, obviously resigned to his fate.

Pidge hands him the readouts from her scan of Shiro’s arm and then hops up on the counter to sit next to Shiro. Matt glances at them before looking back at Shiro.

“Please tell me you’ve moved past the hopeless pining stage already. That’s the most painful part.”

Shiro flushes and looks down at his feet. Matt groans.

“Okay, let me check this over and then we’re going to go find me some alcohol and you can talk my ear off about…”

“Keith,” Shiro supplies.

“About Keith. Deal?”

“If we find me chocolate in the process.”

Matt gives him a thumbs up and then starts reading the information Pidge handed him.

Shiro clenches and unclenches his metal hand until Pidge shoots him a worried look.

“I’m fine, Katie,” he tells her quietly.

She scoots over and leans her head against his shoulder. “You’re nervous. It makes me worry.”

“It’s not about the arm, it’s working better than ever.”

“I know that, you idiot. I  _ just  _ checked it.”

Shiro sighs. “I just… I really like him. What if I mess it up?”

“If he doesn’t realize how special you are, he’s not worth your time,” Pidge says, tilting her face up to look at Shiro. Her eyes have always looked much older than they have any right to.

“When did you get so wise?” He teases.

“Someone around here has to be and it’s certainly not going to be Matt,” she says, letting him lighten the mood again.

“Hey!” Matt protests. He hands Pidge her datapad back. “Everything looks good.”

“I know,” she says.

“Then why’d you have me look at it?”

“So you’d actually do something resembling work today,” she says, raising an eyebrow at him again. “And so you’d remember to come see Shiro.”

“You wound me.”

“It’s easy to do,” she shoots back.

Shiro rolls his eyes at the pair of them, unable to stop the smile from growing on his face.

“Come on, Matt,” he says, getting to his feet and donning his best shit-eating grin. “Let’s find our sugar and alcohol and talk about boys.”

“Remember me fondly,” Matt tells Pidge, laying the dramatics on thick.

She snorts and shoos them towards the door.

“You’re welcome to come hang out later,” Shiro offers.

“When you’re on a sugar high and Matt’s tipsy? No thanks. Just be sure to come hang out in my lab for a bit tomorrow before our parents steal you away for dinner.”

Shiro gives her a one-armed hug around the shoulders before following Matt out of the room.

\-----

Shiro is fairly sure Matt is half drunk by the time he finishes telling him about how he met Keith and their subsequent encounters. He himself has polished off three chocolate bars and two brownies and is completely buzzed on sugar.

“He’s so pretty, Matt,” Shiro says, flopping back on Matt’s sofa.

“If you start talking about his eyes again I will hit you.”

Shiro whines.

“My hands fit all the way around his waist.” He holds out his hands, touching his fingertips together to make a circle and show Matt exactly how small Keith’s waist is.

Matt’s head bangs against the wall. “Why do you know that? Why do  _ I  _ have to know that?”

“It’s ruining my life. It should ruin yours too,” Shiro replies sagely, dropping his hands. “Also he could probably kick my ass. He’s so strong. I haven’t seen him fight but I want to.”

“You have such questionable taste in men.”

Shiro sighs, excited expression slipping off his face. “I know,” he says quietly.

Matt scrambles up off the floor and claims a seat on the sofa next to Shiro. “Hey, I was teasing. Keith sounds great.”

“I don’t have the best history with relationships. You know that.”

“Just because things didn’t work out with Adam doesn’t mean you’re bad at dating, Shiro. You had a great relationship for a while.”

“And then it blew up in my face, just like all of my other attempts at relationships.”

“I’m supposed to be the dramatic one here,” Matt says, nudging Shiro in the side. “It fell apart. It happens.”

Shiro closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. It’s shaky when he lets it back out. “I really like him, Matt. A lot.”

“I can tell. I know I’ve been teasing you but your eyes light up when you talk about him,” Matt says. “I haven’t seen you this happy about something in a long time. It’s  _ good _ , Shiro.”

“I’m not who I was before,” Shiro says, voice even quieter. “I don’t know how to do this. I wasn’t good at it to start with.”

“Hey, look at me,” Matt says. Shiro opens his eyes and turns his head. “There’s no right way to go about getting to know someone. You and Keith are doing it your way and that’s great. That makes it real. And you may not be who you were before, but none of us are. Life happens, we all change.”

Shiro gives him a withering look. “I think I’ve changed a little more than most.”

Matt shrugs. “Maybe so, but the point stands. You’re still you and that’s who Keith wants to get to know, scars and hangups and all.”

“I hope so,” Shiro breathes.

“Dude, he talked you through a panic attack the second time he met you. I think he’s probably aware that you’re not perfect.”

Shiro cracks a smile. “I never tried to be. You know how I am when confronted with an attractive guy.”

“Bad jokes and blushing and generally tripping over both your words and your feet?” Matt rattles off. He’s witnessed the phenomena plenty of times, much to Shiro’s chagrin.

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure I covered all of that the first time I met him.”

Matt pats his shoulder. “You’ve got it bad, buddy.”

Shiro’s smile widens. “I know.”

“So, you going to actually do anything about this crush? Maybe tell him you like him? Just lay one on him next time you see him?”

“He’d probably punch me,” Shiro says with a laugh.

“You never know until you try.”

“I think I’ll wait a little longer. It’s not like I’ve gotten to spend a lot of time with him in the grand scheme of things.”

“If you’re still in the hopeless pining phase the next time you’re here,  _ I’ll _ punch you,” Matt promises.

“You’ll hurt your hand.”

“I’ll be sure to pad it before your arrival.”

Shiro laughs and then lets Matt steer the conversation to the project he’s currently working on and the pretty engineer who’s helping him with it.

\--------

Four days later, Shiro is back in the forest. Matt’s advice to just kiss Keith and see where it goes is foremost on his brain as he walks on the shaded trails. He’s definitely not ready to take said advice yet, but it’s nice to think about kissing Keith.

He’s whistling idly, lost in a daydream, when Keith suddenly appears next to him on the path. He chokes on absolutely nothing at all, sputtering for breath as Keith thumps on his back.

“You alright there, Shiro?”

“Yeah,” he rasps out. “Just didn’t hear you come up.”

Keith’s eyes radiate worry. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you again. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Absolutely,” he says with a smile as he straightens back to full height. He looks over Keith and takes in the way he’s taut as a bowstring, the way his fingers are tapping against his side. He’s never seen Keith like this and he can’t quite find the words to ask him what’s going on.

“Come on,” Keith says after a moment. He jerks his head to the side, indicating that Shiro should follow him. 

Keith is full of barely caged energy. Shiro can feel it rolling off him in waves as they head towards whatever clearing Keith has chosen for them to visit today.

“Is everything alright?” Shiro ventures eventually.

Keith tenses further and Shiro winces just from looking at how tight his shoulders are. “Fine,” he says. The words comes out as more of a growl than anything else.

Shiro waits until they walk into the clearing to follow up. He reaches out and puts a hand on Keith’s shoulder. He has to yank it back when Keith turns, teeth bared in a snarl.

Shiro takes a deep breath. “Obviously everything is not alright,” he says, proud of how calm and even his voice stays. “What’s going on, Keith?”

Keith’s face goes carefully neutral and he steps back out of Shiro’s reach. “It’s nothing. I promise. I’m just…”

“Just what?” Shiro prods.

“A bit keyed up today,” Keith says on an exhale. He won’t meet Shiro’s eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m not going to be good company. You can go ahead and leave, if you want.”

Shiro’s lips twist into a half smile. “Keith, you’ve literally helped me through a panic attack and saw me on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion only a week ago. I’m  _ usually _ bad company. I’m not going to leave and miss out on a chance to spend time with you.”

Keith’s upper lips curls. “I caused that panic attack, hardly counts as a good deed that I helped you through it afterwards.”

“Most people wouldn’t have known how and almost no one would have proceeded to have a good conversation with me afterwards,” he says. “People tend to start treating me like I’m fragile after a panic attack which isn’t the best feeling, if I’m being honest. You didn’t do that.”

“You seemed like you wanted normality, not comfort,” Keith says with a shrug.

“I did.” Shiro lets the silence hang between them for a moment before pushing forward. “What can I do to help you, Keith?”

He shrugs again. “I’m just restless, I think. Woke up with too much energy and I haven’t been able to shake it. Normally I’d --” he cuts himself off, darting a enigmatic look at Shiro.

Shiro jumps on the admission that there was something he usually did to rectify this mood. “Normally you’d what?”

“I’d do some solo exercises or go find someone in one of the border villages who wanted to spar. They know I’m usually a good fight so, there’s usually a couple of takers who want to test their skills.”

“But you didn’t today because you realized I was coming through.”

Keith hesitates and then nods, his bangs falling into his eyes. “Was getting ready to head out when the trees got word to me.”

“You don’t have to give up your plans to fit my unpredictable schedule,” Shiro says softly, guilt starting to gnaw at him.

“They weren’t real plans,” Keith argues. “And I wanted to see you. I still want to see you, I’m just…” He makes a frustrated sound, fists clenching.

“We could…” Shiro pauses, trying to gauge Keith’s reaction, “we could spar.”

“Shiro…” Keith sounds wary and Shiro’s not entirely sure why.

“I could use the practice,” he continues. “I haven’t had many new opponents recently and the people who do spar with me are too easy to beat.”

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea,” he hedges. His face is frustratingly blank.

“Why not?”

Keith just shakes his head.

Shiro steps forward. Keith mirrors him with a step backwards, keeping distance in between them.

“Keith, why not?”

“I don’t want to cause another panic attack, okay?” Keith bursts out. He crosses his arms over his chest. He isn’t looking at Shiro when he continues in a softer voice. “I don’t want to be the reason you’re hurting.”

Shiro reels back, stunned. His heart feels too big for his chest. “Keith…”

The younger man looks up, emotions laid bare in his violet eyes. “I don’t want to make you hurt again. I know you don’t want to be coddled but, Shiro, I  _ can’t _ .”

Shiro’s eyes sting and he blinks back the tears that want to form. He steps forward and drags Keith into a hug. “I know, Keith,” he says into his hair. “I get it, I promise.”

“Does that mean you’re going to drop the idea of us sparring?” Keith asks. His voice rumbles against Shiro’s chest and he can’t decide if Keith sounds hopeful or disappointed.

Shiro drops his arms and gives a lopsided smile. “Nope.”

He gives Keith just enough time to look exasperated before he continues. “You triggered that panic attack by coming up behind me when I was distracted and not expecting anyone to be behind me. If we’re sparring, I expect you to be coming for me and am prepared for it.”

Keith’s chin tilts up to a stubborn angle. “I could still do something that causes you to panic,” he argues.

“You could,” Shiro agrees. “But it’s only slightly more likely to happen while sparring than it is while doing anything else. I  _ want _ to see you fight, Keith. I’ve wanted to see you in action since you drew your knife on me when we met.”

Keith’s eyebrows go up and the smirk on his face has a decidedly wicked bent to it. “Didn’t know it made such a big impression.”

Shiro nods, unashamed. “You’re incredibly graceful and I want to see how that translates in a fight. I think I can at least give you a run for your money. Better than most villagers, I would assume.”

Keith takes a deep breath and lets his eyes wander over Shiro’s body, taking his measure. Shiro has to try not to shiver. “Yeah, I think it would be a good fight.”

“So, you’ll spar with me?”

Keith’s smile is quick and a little veiled. “Yeah, I will. You good with some sword practice? I don’t have practice swords but I can cut us some staffs to use.”

Shiro shrugs. “Fine by me.”

“Cool. I’ll go find staffs, then.” He turns and walks into the woods, drawing his knife as he goes.

Swords aren’t Shiro’s strong point but this spar is about Keith. He can challenge him to a hand to hand bout some other time. He clenches his right hand. He hasn’t told Keith about his prosthetic and hand to hand combat would definitely reveal that particular secret, so it was for the best that Keith picked staff work for their spar.

Shiro sets down his pack and takes off his coat, folding it neatly and leaving it on top of the pack. He makes sure his sleeves will stay down enough to cover the metal gleam of his arm and then starts stretching.

Keith steps back into the clearing, two almost identical staffs in hand. He’s pulled his hair back into a ponytail and Shiro’s heartrate picks up at the sight.

Shiro stands and Keith tosses a staff to him. He hefts it, testing the weight.

“You sure you want to do this?” Keith asks as he settles into an easy stance, staff at the ready.

Shiro grins at the question, at the cocky smirk on Keith’s face. “Positive.” He drops into his own stance. 

Keith’s smile is a lightning strike. Shiro barely has time to recover from it before Keith is lunging forward, staff arcing towards the left side of Shiro’s ribs.

Shiro counters, the wooden staffs clashing with a loud thud. Keith utilizes the energy from the collision to swing his staff back the other direction, aiming a blow at Shiro’s knees.

Shiro stays on the defensive as Keith moves through a series of strikes, each seemingly faster than the next. His speed is breathtaking and Shiro knows he’s not going to be able to keep up for long.

He blocks a strike to his ribs and spins out of the way of the follow-up. Shiro swings his staff at Keith’s knees, getting in his first attack of the bout. Keith easily jumps over the attack and skips out of range for a moment.

“Was wondering if you were ever going to come off defense,” he taunts, smile teasing the corners of his mouth.

“I’m just trying to keep up,” Shiro admits with a laugh.

Keith switches his staff to his left hand with a smirk. “Maybe this will even things out. I’ve been needing to work on my opposite hand drills.”

Shiro has a sneaking suspicion before Keith darts back in with another attack that Keith is just as good with either hand.

As he blocks Keith’s blow and feels the force vibrate up his arm, he knows he’s right. He puts up a good fight for another couple of minutes, keeping Keith from landing any major blows and finding two more opportunities to go on the offensive. He’s starting to wonder how much longer he can keep this up when Keith lunges forward and their staffs clash. Keith makes a twisting motion and Shiro’s staff goes flying before Keith presses forward to touch the sap-sticky end of the staff against the base of his throat.

“I yield,” Shiro says with a laugh. He steps backwards and pushes a hand through his hair. “I never stood a chance.”

Keith doesn’t argue, just gives him another small smile. “You lasted longer than anyone has in a long while. Everyone else has pretty much learned not to challenge me with anything remotely resembling a sword.”

“Learned my lesson,” Shiro says. He sits down and then lets himself flop back on the grass. The sky is a much less distracting sight than a slightly sweaty and triumphant Keith. “You’re really good. Your speed is incredible.” 

“Thanks. You’re good too. I’m lucky you couldn’t get on the offensive much, you definitely have more pure strength than me,” Keith offers as he sits down next to Shiro, setting his staff down in the grass next to him.

Shiro turns his head to look up at him. The tension from earlier is mostly gone and Keith is loose-limbed and relaxed. “Another day I’m going to challenge you to hand to hand and I’m going to kick your ass.”

“Keep dreaming, Shiro,” Keith says with a laugh.

Shiro thinks about the close quarters of a sparring match, of feeling Keith’s strength up close, of what it would feel like to pin him to the ground. He thinks of what it would feel like to have Keith pin  _ him _ and tell him to yield.

He shivers.

“Go ahead and underestimate me,” Shiro says, offering a lazy smile.

Keith huffs with amusement. “I don’t think anyone has ever underestimated you in a fight. Have you seen yourself?”

“The way I look predetermines the way people fight me,” Shiro says. “I like to use that to my advantage.”

Keith hums. “I’ll keep that in mind for the future.”

“Still going to kick your ass.”

Keith makes a disbelieving sound.

“Seriously,” Shiro says, turning onto his side to face Keith, “when’s the last time you lost a fight?”

His face scrunches up as he tries to remember. “Two, no, three years ago? I think.”

“You need better competition.”

“Hard to find out here.” He slants a look at Shiro. “Not every day that a guy built like a brick house wanders through and wants to fight.”

Shiro laughs. “Well, at least you know I’ll be through fairly frequently. We’ll definitely do this again.”

“Good.”

Silence settles between them for a few moments as they recover. Shiro sneaks another look towards Keith and finds violet eyes already trained on him.

“You’re looking better than last time I saw you,” Keith says quietly.

“Finally got some rest in,” Shiro replies with a smile. “On a couple of real beds, even.”

“The definition of luxury,” Keith teases.

“I’ve spent significant amounts of time sleeping on the ground so it really is,” Shiro says. “Even if Allura is embarrassed to have the rock I call a mattress in her castle. She makes sure to tell me that almost every time I visit.”

Keith laughs. “I take it all the sleeping rough was when you were in the military?”

Shiro nods. “Yeah. Beds and cots aren’t transported easily and even those of us who weren’t front line foot soldiers only had bedrolls and a tent for bad weather to our names.”

“What did you do?” Keith asks. “I mean, if you don’t mind talking about it. I don’t want to…”

“Keith, it’s fine,” Shiro cuts him off. “I was in the flight squadrons. Experimental tech meant to give the Garrison and her allies an advantage by being able to recon and attack from the air.”

“So, when I guessed that you like to go fast…”

“You were absolutely right,” Shiro answers with a grin. “Flying was like nothing else. Five times faster than the best speeder you can find, minimum.”

“Sounds incredible.”

“It was.” Shiro misses flying as much as he misses his arm, more maybe. The squadrons are mostly grounded now but he’d peeked in at the newest batch of planes being built while he was at the Academy and felt a whole body itch to get his hands on them and get back in the air.

“So, I bet you were a hotshot,” Keith says. The tease is back in his voice and Shiro tilts his head to get a better look at him. “The golden child they were eager to promote, I’m guessing. What was your rank before you left?”

“Lieutenant Takashi Shirogane, at your service,” he says. “I’m not moving my arms to salute. They’re tired.”

“Would be pretty weird when you’re sprawled in the grass anyways,” Keith retorts.

Shiro hums in agreement. Keith’s not wrong about him being the golden child, either. He’d been top of his class coming out of the Academy and then the flight squadron leader. His flight formations and techniques are still being used at the Academy to teach future pilots, according to Sam Holt. He’d even been on track for an early promotion to Captain before his capture.

The Garrison Republic wanted badly to keep him in their ranks. They approached him after his return to offer a promotion and a job, if he wanted to come back. Shiro turned them down flat. He is finished with military life.

“So, I take it Shiro’s a nickname, then, Takashi Shirogane,” Keith says after a few moments of silence, drawing Shiro back out of his head..

He shivers at the sound of his name rolling off of Keith’s tongue. It sounds like it belongs in his mouth and he wants to hear it again. “Yeah. Either name is a mouthful and I got tired of people pronouncing them wrong. Shiro’s easier. Been going by it since I was about six.”

Keith nods and directs the conversation back to sparring and away from the minefield of Shiro’s past.

By the time they part ways again, the last of Keith’s extra energy has dissipated. Keith’s told Shiro about some of the more entertaining spars he’s had in the past year and Shiro has told Keith some of his embarrassing stories from learning how to use a sword. Keith’s hair has escaped his ponytail in slow movements and now his face is framed once more by ink-spill strands. He’s pink-cheeked from sitting in the sun and holding back laughter and Shiro’s never been more smitten than he is in that moment as they say goodbye.

Shiro can’t stop smiling as he heads off towards Olkarion. He starts whistling again.

Maybe next time he’ll take Matt’s advice.


	6. Chapter 6

Shiro doesn’t exactly need to venture into the forest on his way to Balmera from Olkarion. It’s technically out of his way, but he has a few hours to spare and so he wanders into the shade, enjoying the respite from one of the first true summer days of the year.

He wanders down the first path he finds for about ten minutes before finding a place to sit and wait. Either Keith will come find him and he can spend some time talking with him for the next little bit, or Shiro will just enjoy the peace of being on his own for the first time in what felt like weeks.

The Olkari had kept him hopping from one clan to the next, treating illnesses and helping teach bits of his trade to local healers. It’s one of his favorite parts of being a healer, he thinks, helping teach others what he knows and learning from them in turn.

Shiro leans his head back against the tree trunk, tilting his face up towards the forest canopy. The light filtering through is tinted green and gold and when he closes his eyes, he feels a bit like he’s floating despite the rough bark at his back and the dirt below him.

“I swear I’m trying not to sneak up on you, but you make it way too easy.” Keith’s voice sounds amused.

Shiro slowly opens his eyes and sees Keith leaning on another tree across the path, all lithe lines and feline grace. The golden light of summer gilds the angles of his face and the unruly locks of hair framing his face look even darker than normal as they soak in the light.

He’s breathtaking and Shiro’s mouth drops open. He wonders what he has done in his life to deserve the sight of Keith like this, smiling softly at him.

“Hey, Keith,” he says finally, voice a bit rough.

“Were you sleeping?” Keith asks, amusement still plain on his face in the tilt of his mouth and the twinkle in his eye.

“Not quite, was getting close though,” Shiro admits.

Keith’s eyebrow goes up. “Should I apologize for interrupting your nap?”

“No, I was just waiting for you.”

“Not in a hurry today?” Keith’s eyes sharpen, like the answer really matters to him.

“No, I’m on my way to Balmera and it’s not far.”

Keith snorts. The Balmeran border is about a fifteen minute walk from where they are and he knows it.

“Alright big guy, let me find you a better place to nap.” He pushes off the tree and waits for Shiro to haul himself to his feet and fall into step beside him before starting to wind his way through the trees.

There’s a bright feeling in the air as they walk and he thinks it must be the touch of Keith’s magic. Keith’s fingers trail against the trunks of the trees they pass, like he’s saying a quick hello to each one. 

Shiro is mesmerized.

He wants to know what that quick drag of fingers would feel like against his own skin, wonders if the fingerless leather gloves that Keith always seems to have on would be warm against him from Keith’s body heat and the sun-drenched day.

The place Keith leads them to isn’t quite a clearing. There’s just enough space between the trees for about three people. Thick grass covers the ground and the sunlight is filtered through enough layers of leaves to be soft.

Shiro takes it in and then looks at Keith’s expectant expression. “Looks like a prime nap location,” he admits.

“It is. For all that they don’t actually sleep, the trees can always show me the best places for a nap,” Keith says. He practically flops to the ground, sprawling out with a sigh. “I’m exhausted.”

Shiro sits with slightly more grace than Keith. “What have you been doing?”

“Working in my garden. Everything always seems ready to harvest at the same time. Have to pick everything that’s ready, trim the plants that need it, and then weed everything. The weeding is neverending,” Keith complains. “Then, on top of that, I have to water everything since it hasn’t rained.”

“I’d apologize for pulling you away but it sounds like you could definitely use the break,” Shiro says with a laugh.

Keith groans. “This is the first time I’ve left the shack in like five days. I think I spent most of those days weeding. I hate summer.”

Shiro lays back, tucking his hands under his head. “Sounds like we could both use a break.”

Keith twists around to look at him “Hopefully you didn’t have a repeat of the Rinsian Fever thing?”

“No, thankfully, but the Olkari still ran me ragged,” he admits. “Not nearly as exhausting as the Arusians but it’s been a busy month. I’m on my way to Hunk’s place, now, and there’s always a lot going on there too.”

“Needed a breather in between?” Keith guesses.

Shiro lets out a breath. “Yeah.”

He turns his head to look at Keith, conspiratorial smile tugging at his lips. “Might have told the Olkari clan I was with that I needed to leave several hours earlier than necessary so I could escape here.”

“Glad you did,” Keith says after a moment. His brows draw together as he seems to puzzle something over. “If you were with the Olkari and going to Balmera, this is not on your way.”

“It’s not,” Shiro agrees readily. He turns his face back towards the sky.

Keith’s quiet “Oh,” is barely audible.

They let the soft sounds of the forest reign for several minutes. Shiro is just starting to think that Keith might have fallen asleep when his voice, gravel-rough, breaks the silence.

“Tell me about your trip?”

It’s a question instead of a request, like he’s not quite sure he’s allowed to ask.

Shiro feels the smile spread over his face but he doesn’t look over at Keith. Instead, he starts telling him about the little Olkari child who wanted to know everything about being a healer because they were going to be one too one day and about the mother who insisted on giving him three loaves of fresh bread in exchange for helping to treat the fevers of her three children even though Shiro doesn’t charge for his services.

He trails off after that story, trying to decide what else might be interesting to Keith.

“You make a real difference to people, Shiro,” he says quietly.

“I try to. It doesn’t feel like I can do much sometimes, though.”

“You don’t have to change the whole world to make a difference.”

“I feel like I should try.” Shiro’s words are dragged out from some hidden depth of his soul that he usually keeps locked tight.

Keith rolls over to look at him. His eyes are soft and mesmerizing in the gold-green light. “An Olkari once told me that we are all made of the stuff,” he says, words coming out slowly as he tries to put them together just right. “The stars, the trees, the dirt beneath our feet, you and me. We’re all made out of the same cosmic dust.”

Shiro nods, liking the sentiment but unsure where this is going.

“When you help a single person, you help everyone, Shiro. We’re all connected.”

Shiro closes his eyes, letting the words sink in. “I like that,” he says finally. “It’s comforting, somehow.”

“I agree,” Keith says. Shiro hears him shift and cracks an eye open to see him now in the same position he is -- on his back with his hands behind his head. There’s still residual tension in the lines of his body, like he’s ready to spring to his feet if he needs to.

Shiro’s eyes close again and he smiles. “Well, you would. You’re the one who said it.”

“Whatever.” The amusement rings clear in the single word.

“Thank you, Keith.”

“Yeah, no problem.”

The silence that settles in between them is a comfortable weight. Shiro can hear the soft rhythm of Keith breathing and the call of birds somewhere nearby. Feeling warm and safe, he drifts off to sleep.

 

“Shiro. Shiro, it’s time to wake up.” Someone’s hand is on his shoulder, shaking gently.

Shiro groans and opens his eyes, ready to complain. Keith’s face is above him, limned in gold from the sun. His mouth goes dry. He would give so much to wake up to this sight every day of his life.

The smile that flits across Keith’s face is soft and Shiro tucks it away in the corner of his mind to treasure for long after its half second existence. “There you are.”

“Mmm, guess so,” Shiro responds. His voice sounds foreign to his own ears, deeper and rougher than usual. He watches, still only half-coherent, as Keith’s eyes widen and go dark.

_ Interesting _ , he thinks. Maybe he should take Matt’s advice and kiss Keith after all, see what happens. 

A very clear image of Keith pushing him away, of visits to the forest that don’t involve a shadow-bright boy with an elusive smile and gorgeous eyes stops him from moving, freezes the breath in his lungs. The gut-wrenching lurch of loss sets him spiralling for a moment even though Keith is right here in front of him.

“Hey, you okay?” Keith squeezes his shoulder, not having moved his hand away.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Shiro pushes himself up to a seated position. Keith’s hand falls away with the movement. “Just took me a minute to escape sleep, there.”

“Nightmare?” Keith asks. His eyes are full of endless empathy.

Shiro shakes his head. Surprisingly, he’d slept soundly without a single nightmare. He can’t remember the last time he’d managed that.

“Okay,” Keith says. “It’s time for you to get walking. You’ve got  _ such  _ a long way to go.”

Shiro snorts at the completely innocent look on Keith’s face. “Brat.”

Keith snorts. “Come on. I’ll get you back to the path. You have plenty of time to get out of the forest and a decent way into Balmera before nightfall.”

Shiro accepts the hand Keith offers and gets to his feet. He bends down to retrieve his pack and settles the straps over his shoulders. “Ready when you are.”

Keith takes his hand again and leads him back through the trees. Shiro is oblivious as to where he is being led. His entire focus is on the warm press of Keith’s gloved hand against his own.

When they’re back on the path Shiro started on, Keith disengages, letting go of Shiro’s hand. Shiro watches as Keith’s hand falls back to his side, flexing a few times as though he’s remembering the sensation of it being held.

He knows the feeling. His hand does the same.

“Thanks for leaving your garden to the weeds for a couple hours,” Shiro says. “It was good to see you.”

“Yeah, you too,” Keith says, eyes snapping up from where they’d fallen to Shiro’s hand. “I’m glad you decided to detour through the forest.”

Shiro nods, a smile that he’s almost positive is irredeemably sappy breaking out on his face.

Keith’s mouth twitches up into a smile of its own and Shiro’s heart soars. “See you next time, Shiro. Stay safe.”

“You too, Keith.”

Keith turns and walks away, throwing Shiro a little wave before he is out of sight.

Shiro closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He feels rested and ready to take on the busy month he has planned in Balmera. 

He thinks about the way Keith looked hovering over him with that soft smile on his face all the way to Hunk’s house.

\--------------------

“It’s the middle of summer and you’re still wearing long sleeves,” Keith teases the next time they meet. It’s been a month since Shiro’s detour through the forest and summer is bearing down on them in earnest. Keith is in a short sleeved shirt and is stretched out in the grass, basking in the sun. Shiro loves how relaxed he looks, how he’s letting himself be vulnerable around Shiro today.

It’s not a privilege he takes for granted.

Shiro packs up the couple of brownies they hadn’t demolished and tries not to stare at the exposed strip of skin between the hem of his shirt and his waistband. His eyes drift to the defined muscles of Keith’s arms and linger for as long as he dares. He turns away and absently rubs at his right wrist. “Not all of us are willing to risk so much sun damage,” he says with a sniff.

“Come on, Shiro, you’ve got to be burning up.”

“I…” he trails off, not wanting to lie to Keith. He  _ is _ rather warm and if he was by himself, he would’ve already rolled up his sleeves.

Keith rolls over, propping his chin up on his hands and looking at him. “You what?”

Shiro stays silent, waging a silent war against himself. Logically, he knows Keith probably wouldn’t react badly to his arm, but there is always the chance that he is wrong in assuming that.

That the best he hopes for is that Keith won’t  _ react badly _ , says a lot about the reactions he has received in the past, he thinks, trying not to stray too far into the bitterness. It still stings when someone he’s helped or healed catches sight of the metal and recoils, no matter how much he pretends it doesn’t bother him.

He stays quiet too long, lost in his head. Suddenly Keith is kneeling next to him, hand reaching out to clasp his shoulder.

Shiro flinches on instinct, not having seen Keith come into his space. Keith pulls his hand back quickly. Worry fills his eyes, making them sharp and bright.

“Hey, are you okay? I didn’t mean to try and push you into something you’re not comfortable with. I was just teasing you. It doesn’t matter to me if you’re covered head to toe or not.”

Shiro swallows hard, affection crashing over him in waves. Keith never pushes, never asks questions about the weird things Shiro says or does sometimes, never asks about the scar on his face or the white tuft of hair.

He can trust him with this. He knows he can. He just needs to take this leap of faith.

“I’m fine,” he says, surprised when his voice comes out rougher than normal. “You startled me, is all. Didn’t see you move over here. I just got lost in my head there for a minute.”

Keith nods and doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know where Keith draws these near-infinite wells of patience from, but he suspects that the trees taught it to him.

He takes a deep breath. “I’m still wearing long sleeves and gloves because my right arm is a prosthetic. It’s easier to cover it up than to deal with people staring,” Shiro explains. His voice is devoid of feeling. If he cracks himself open right now, he doesn’t think he will be able to stopper the flow before he’s spilled his entire self on the grass at Keith’s feet.

Keith’s eyes flick down to his right shoulder before meeting his eyes again. “Okay.”

“That’s it?” Shiro asks, startled.

Keith shrugs, still watching his face. The worried look hasn’t dissipated yet. “Yeah. I just thought you had an old shoulder injury on that side because of the way you distribute your weight when you walk.”

Shiro huffs out a laugh. “Well, you’re not  _ wrong _ .”

Keith snorts, a smile sneaking onto his face. “Bit more serious than what I assumed.”

“Well, with a glove on, you can’t see the difference between it and my real arm,” Shiro says. “You’d know if I hit you with it because it’s metal-”

“Please don’t hit me with it,” Keith cuts in.

Shiro shoots him a half-hearted glare. Keith returns it with the smirk that has been driving Shiro crazy since the day he met him.

“It’s this miracle of science and magic, or so I’m told,” Shiro continues. “Have you heard of the Holts? Matt and Pidge, or Katie, I guess. Their parents, Sam and Colleen, are scientists of note, as well. They work for the Garrison. Or, Sam and Matt do. Katie… freelances.”

“Don’t get much news out here about that kind of thing,” Keith admits. “I take it they’re good at what they do?”

Shiro snorts. “That’s an understatement if I ever heard one. Matt and Pidge are somewhat terrifying when they put their combined minds to a problem.”

“You sound fond of them.”

“The Holts have done a lot for me,” Shiro says. “Matt’s been one of my best friends my entire life, which means I’ve been friends with Pidge for  _ her _ whole life. She thinks it’s entirely unfair that she ended up with an extra big brother and lets me hear about it whenever I remind her to do things like sleep and eat.”

“Sounds like a firecracker.” Keith says. 

“You have no idea.”

“She’s the one who’s threatened you with everything but a knife, right?” There’s a note of admiration in his voice.

Shiro nods and wonders for a moment how Keith and Pidge would get along and quickly banishes the thought. They would likely get along like a house on fire, and a house somewhere would probably actually end up on fire.

“So, they had something to do with your arm?”

“Yeah. Matt and Pidge designed it with the help of Hunk, who’s the best engineer I’ve ever met in addition to being the maker of your favorite brownies.”

“You just surround yourself with the best and the brightest, Shirogane,” Keith teases. “You’re friends with geniuses and princesses and yet you’re out here slumming it with me.”

“You’re the best forest talker I know,” Shiro says with a straight face.

Keith whacks him in the shoulder.

Shiro laughs, some of the weight on his chest lifting. “Seriously Keith, you’re incredible at so many things. My friends would all love you.”

Keith’s expression turns a little guarded. “You think so?”

“I know so. Besides, they’ve heard me talk about you enough that they probably feel like they already know you.”

“You… talk about me to your friends?”

Shiro has no idea how to interpret the look on Keith’s face, the careful way the words fall from his lips. “Um, yeah? I’m not gossiping or anything, it’s just something will come up that makes me think of something you said so I’ll mention it or whatever.”

Probably best not to mention that every single one of his friends knows Shiro has a massive crush on Keith, that they’ve all listened to him practically wax poetic about him at some point or another. He’ll keep that tidbit to himself for as long as possible.

He’s sure someone will spill the beans when they meet Keith one day but the embarrassment can wait until then.

Keith nods. He looks over Shiro’s shoulder and takes a deep breath, letting it out before meeting Shiro’s eyes again. “Okay, so Matt and Pidge and Hunk made you a miracle arm?”

“Yeah, essentially. Allura provided the magic that helps power it after they built it.” He flexes his right hand and then balls it back into a fist. He sighs. “I’m mostly just glad that it works.”

“Me too,” Keith says. The smile he offers Shiro is small and a little shy.

He doesn’t ask to see it, which is why Shiro decides to show it to him.

“Can I, can I show it to you?” Shiro asks.

Keith makes a go ahead gesture. “Been trying to convince you to take off your gloves and roll up your sleeves all afternoon, I’m not going to stop you now.”

Shiro takes a deep breath and tugs off his gloves and then rolls up his sleeve. His heart is hammering somewhere in the vicinity of his throat as he holds out his arm to Keith.

Keith whistles, long and low. He glances at Shiro’s face to make sure it’s alright before running his fingers over the metal. “Impressive workmanship. Can you feel things with it?”

Shiro’s holding back a shiver from the sensation of Keith’s fingertips slowly dragging over a part of himself he doesn’t usually let people touch. “Yes.” He clears his throat so his next words won’t sound as rough. “I can feel touch, though it’s more muted than my real arm. Temperature as well but the metal can withstand more extreme temperatures than flesh.”

Keith’s touch is exploratory and almost achingly gentle. Shiro swallows hard, glad that Keith can’t feel the way his pulse is pounding with his hand on the metal.

“It’s beautiful,” he says.

Shiro can’t breathe.

Keith looks up, those violet eyes peeking through sooty lashes. “Does it bother you?”

It takes Shiro a moment to remember what they were talking about. “Sometimes,” he admits. He hasn’t told Keith about the incident that took his arm, about the prosthetic that preceded this one that had been forced on him, about the fact that this one looks so much like his old one that it scares him. “It’s…” he cleared his throat as he decided on the right word, “complicated.”

Keith raises an eyebrow at that. His palm rests flat against Shiro’s forearm. “Does it bother you to have me touch it?”

Shiro shakes his head. “I don’t usually let people but you’re different.”

“Okay.”

“I mean it, Keith,” he said, needing him to understand how important this was to him. “You aren’t looking at it like it’s… like it’s an abomination or some science project. You aren’t scared of it.”

Keith presses down harder on his arm, the tightening of his fingers against his wrist, against what would be his pulsepoint, sending a thrill through Shiro.

“Of course I’m not scared of it. It’s part of you, Shiro.” Keith looks him directly in the eye, expression aggressively earnest. “I could never think that any part of you is an abomination or be scared of you. Your arm is some miracle of science and magic, but it’s beautiful because it’s part of you. If anyone ever makes you feel otherwise, please feel free to send them to my forest so I can kick their ass.”

“Keith.” The word punches its way out of Shiro’s mouth, breathless and full of wonder. No one’s ever reacted to his arm like this. His friends have never treated it as something to be ashamed of or hidden, but they helped design and create it. They will always see it as parts and pieces as well as his arm. This absolute acceptance at face value is new and precious.

Keith shakes his head and he slides his hand down until his fingers can twine around Shiro’s metal ones. “I mean it.”

“All of it?”

“Yeah.”

Shiro reaches out with his other hand to tuck a piece of hair behind Keith’s ear. He lets it linger, lets his fingers trace the edge of Keith’s jawline before pulling back. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Keith squeezes his hand, looking down at their tangled fingers. Shiro doesn’t quite recognize the look in his eyes when they snap back up to meet his. It seems to be a theme today, not being able to read Keith. He feels a little off-balance.

He has half a second to decipher the spark of hope and the wild, reckless moment of decision that flicker through the ever-expressive violet before Keith pitches forward and presses his lips to Shiro’s.

Shiro is stunned into inaction for a moment. It’s just long enough for Keith to start to lose his nerve and pull back. Shiro makes a noise of dissent and threads the fingers of his free hand into Keith’s hair, keeping him close. He guides them into a soft kiss, different from the hard, frantic press of lips that Keith initiated.

Keith practically melts against him. His hand grips the join between Shiro’s neck and shoulder, holding himself steady.

Shiro licks his way into Keith’s mouth, earning a whine from him as he opens up. Shiro untangles their fingers and uses his metal hand to pull Keith closer and into his lap. He spreads his hand across the small of Keith’s back, marvelling at how much of it he can span and the strength ripping beneath the fabric.

The sparks that usually tumble through him whenever he rests a hand on Keith’s shoulder or Keith nudges him with an elbow as they walk ignite into an inferno, replacing his blood with liquid fire.

He groans as Keith nips at his bottom lip with sharp teeth.

The reality of kissing Keith is so much better than any of the numerous dreams he’s had about it. Keith’s unpracticed but enthusiastic and learning quickly. Shiro thinks he might’ve died on the spot if he was better at this than he already is.

Keith scratches his nails across Shiro’s scalp and he pulls away from the kiss with another groan.

He looks down at Keith. His eyes are darker than he’s ever seen and his lips are red and kiss-swollen. Keith pulls his lower lip into his mouth, digging his teeth into the sensitive flesh for a second and Shiro really, really wants to do that for him.

“Was,” Keith clears his throat but while it might put his voice to rights, Shiro is never going to forget the way his voice was even deeper, even rougher on that one word, “was that okay?”

Shiro nods mutely. He leans forward to claim another kiss. He nips at Keith’s bottom lip and he opens for Shiro immediately. Shiro takes his time learning the layout of Keith’s mouth, learning how Keith likes to be kissed.

It’s been so long since Shiro has felt like this, like he could float on air, like the man kissing him is the only thing keeping him anchored to reality, like happiness made tangible. 

Before everything, there had been Adam and his spun sugar kisses and warm, decisive touches but that had been lost to a deteriorating relationship and a difference in dreams long before the war had dealt them a final death blow. 

He’d started to think that the  _ ability _ to feel like this was yet another thing the war and Haggar had stolen from him. But here with Keith, Shiro can feel love blooming in the spaces between his ribs, filling him to bursting.

Keith tastes like the sweet-tart burst of a fresh raspberry and his every touch is a spark of pure lightning.

He kisses like this is his last chance, like he needs everything right now. Shiro wants to give him everything he wants and more.

Shiro laughs into the kiss when he remembers thinking Keith was patient, mere minutes ago. The livewire he’s holding on his lap is anything but.

“What’re you laughing at, big guy?” Keith says, moving his lips to Shiro’s jawline.

“Nothing important,” Shiro answers. “Just thinking that I was wrong about you being a patient person.”

A thoughtful hum is Keith’s only response.

Shiro hands move to Keith’s waist, circling it. It’s as devastating as Shiro always expected it to be. Keith lets out a whine and buries his face in Shiro’s shoulder as his hips jerk forward. 

“It shouldn’t be so fucking hot that your hands are that big,” Keith complains. “I didn’t need to know this about myself.”

Shiro laughs, bright and loud. “I’ve been thinking about the fact that I could do this since the first time I met you,” he admits. “I was already thinking about it when I tripped and almost knocked you over and caught you like this.”

Another sound catches at the back of Keith’s throat. “Yeah… yeah that was an experience,” he says, voice rough.

Shiro raises an eyebrow. “An experience?”

“The guy I’d been half-stalking sneaks up on me and turns out to be even hotter up close and also weirdly nice and then I find out that your hands can go all the way around me like that?” Keith says. “An  _ experience _ , Shiro. Possibly religious.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Shiro says fondly. He bumps his nose against Keith’s.

Keith shrugs. “You seem to like it alright.”

“I do.” He leans forward and kisses the blooming smile right off of Keith’s lips, ecstatic that it’s something he can do now instead of just imagining it.

This kiss is soft and full of a sweetness that had fallen by the wayside earlier. Shiro’s heart trips over itself and he keeps his eyes closed when he pulls away.

Keith rests his forehead against Shiro’s.

“Really glad I wasn’t misreading you,” Keith says.

Shiro cracks one eye. “I feel like I’ve been painfully obvious about my attraction to you.”

“I thought  _ I  _ was being obvious.”

“Maybe we’re just both really bad at flirting,” Shiro suggests. He leans back and takes one hand off Keith to be able to push his bangs off his forehead. The tuft of white falls right back into place and he just catches the soft, fond look on Keith’s face before it’s hidden again behind a smirk.

“Could be,” Keith acedes. He leans forward and presses his forehead to Shiro’s shoulder.

Shiro cards his fingers through Keith’s silky hair, marvelling aloud that it’s even softer than he imagined.

Keith’s huff of laughter is muffled, but Shiro feels it more than hears it and he can’t even begin to try to smother his grin.

“I don’t want you to go,” Keith admits after a minute.

Shiro’s hand stills. “I want to stay,” he says, “but I can’t.”

Keith makes a noise of dissent.

“If I didn’t have an appointment with Pidge back at the Garrison Academy to get my arm checked out, I’d let you convince me to stay longer,” Shiro says.

Keith leans back and rests his hand on the metal of Shiro’s forearm, worry shining in his eyes again. “Are you having problems with it?” 

Shiro shakes his head. “I’ve had it for just about a year and Pidge likes to check on it regularly. It makes both of us feel better about it.”

“Okay.” Keith draws small patterns in the crook of Shiro’s elbow, making him shiver. “You’ll tell me if anything I do makes you uncomfortable, right?”

“Of course, but I really don’t mind you touching it. I actually kind of like it.” He can feel his cheeks heating up, which is ridiculous given that Keith is kiss-tousled and in his lap. This should  _ not  _ be the thing flustering him. “I, um, you treat it like part of me and I like you touching me.”

Keith’s smile is a sly little thing and Shiro adores it instantly. “Good, because I definitely like touching you.”

Shiro groans. “You’re going to kill me, baby.”

Keith’s cheeks are pink when he answers. “Already promised not to do that, I think.”

“True.”

They’re silent for another minute. Shiro knows he needs to go but, despite the heat of the summer day, the weight of Keith on his lap and the warmth that radiates from him is too comforting to leave. 

Keith is the one who moves back and gets off of Shiro. “You need to get moving to be out of the forest and at your appointment on time,” he says. He hands Shiro the gloves he’d left lying in the grass.

Shiro tugs them on and stands. As soon as Keith is on his feet, he pulls him into a hug, burying his face in his hair. “I’ll be back soon.”

Keith leans back to make eye contact with him, smiling softly. “You better be.”

He takes Shiro by the hand and leads him back to the path. They part ways after another hug and a brief kiss that doesn’t quite stay chaste.

Shiro can feel Keith watching him until he goes around a bend in the path.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to come yell at me about voltron things on [twitter](http://twitter.com/LionessNapping) and [tumblr](http://perfectlyrose.tumblr.com).


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